


Emotional Brilliance

by kopperblaze



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: bandombigbang, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopperblaze/pseuds/kopperblaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toro and Mikey are a good team, Mikey doesn’t get why Brian had to hire someone else. In particular he doesn’t get why Brian had to hire <em>Frank</em>, who knows nothing about Lush products and who's incapable of keeping his mouth shut.</p><p> </p><p>Lush!AU. The one where Ray is a skin care expert, Frank is obnoxious, Mikey is annoyed and Pete leaves glittery handprints all over everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Brilliance

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): One instance of homophobic language
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone on Twitter who encouraged this story, turpss who is the best alpha reader ever and held my hand, as well as plotted with me, and to themoononastick for being Super-Beta. <3

Mikey sighs and takes a long sip of coffee. He wishes someone would invent an automatically re-filling cup. They’ve not even opened yet and Ray and Frank are already enthusing about rearranging one of the displays. Mikey takes another sip of coffee and tries not to think about the day ahead. He and Toro are a good team, Mikey doesn’t get why Brian had to hire someone else. In particular he doesn’t get why Brian had to hire _Frank_ , who knows nothing about Lush products and who's incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Worse, Mikey remembers him from high school because Frank was one of the stupid kids who constantly picked on Gerard and played pranks on him. And who was stupidly handsome, even at sixteen with ill-advised dreadlocks and pudgy cheeks.

“Man, you should totally come. We’re playing the Iron Monkey Saturday.”

Frank is also in a band. Mikey's totally not bitter about it.

“Sure, sounds good.” Ray nods and the grin Frank gives him in return is so wide that Mikey thinks it’s a miracle the corners of Frank’s mouth aren't cracking.

“Hey, Mikey, you should come too.”

Mikey takes a slow sip of coffee, noting that the cup is almost empty, before he looks at his cell phone and randomly taps at the display.

“No.” Mikey doesn’t see Frank’s reaction and he doesn’t want to. He’s not interested in going to the stupid show of a stupid band he’s never heard of. Mikey knows all the good bands in Jersey.

Ray clears his throat and eventually breaks the silence. “Hey Frank, gimme a hand with the new stock?”

Mikey sniffs haughtily and taps the screen of his phone rapidly.

_Fkng h8 the nw gy_

Gerard is going to understand his pain.

Mikey slides his phone into the pocket of his apron and goes to fill the bowls with water and arrange the product samples. Maybe he should give Gerard a bottle of Sonic Death Monkey. The theory that Gerard might be more willing to shower if he can smell like coffee has yet to be tested.

“Ray, the Dirty shower gel is empty.” Mikey takes the sample bottle and goes to wash it out in the back. He's not even a step away from the sampling station when Frank appears out of nowhere.

“Oh is this where you show people stuff?”

Mikey’s eyelid twitches. “The shower gels, yes,” he replies because, duh. They don’t show all the different things with one bowl of water.

“Cool.” Frank completely misses the point and grins at him. “Can I try it?” He doesn’t give Mikey a chance to reply but grabs his hand and puts it straight into the water. Mikey blinks rapidly, stunned into silence as he watches Frank study the bottles before grabbing one and squeezing way too much shower gel onto the back of Mikey’s hand.

“What are you doing?” Mikey gets out when his brain unfreezes.

“Demonstrating a shower gel,” Frank replies, covering Mikey’s entire hand in lather. It only makes matters worse that he used Grass, the shower gel Mikey can’t stand because it makes him sneeze. He wrenches his hand out of Frank’s grasps and submerges it completely in water, nostrils flaring. Not only is this stuff hard to wash off, the water is ruined too.

“This is not how you demonstrate stuff.” _stupid little gremlin_ , a nasty voice adds in Mikey’s mind.

“Oh.” Frank’s face falls. Mikey ignores him and grabs a bunch of paper towels from the neat stack beside the bowl, patting his hand dry before he takes the bowl with more force than necessary, causing the water to slop over and onto the floor.

“Fuck’s sake,” Mikey mutters, glaring darkly at the wet spots on his vans before he steps over the puddle and carries the bowl to the back. Frank better have wiped the water up by the time he gets back.

But by the time Mikey gets back with fresh water, after washing his hands with the sad remains in the Dirty bottle to make the Grass smell go away, Frank hasn’t done shit. Instead of wiping up the spill he caused, Frank’s standing with Ray, giggling as Ray demonstrates one of the cleansers on the back of Frank’s hand. Mikey feels like he’s going to suffer an eyelid spasm.

Mikey barely resists the urge to slam down the bowl and drops a few paper towels down on the floor, stepping on them and wiggling his feet a little before kicking them together into a wet, limp bundle. That’ll have to do. Mikey frowns at the little paper towel mountain before he gets a broom and dust pan. It might not be the easiest way, but he’s not going to touch the gross towels.

By the time he’s done cleaning up Mikey’s sure that his head is going to explode if he doesn’t get more coffee soon. The only thing that could keep him sane, that isn’t coffee, would be if a box of bathbombs came loose and buried Frank.

Chances of that are sadly slim, so Mikey wipes his hands on his apron and walks past Ray and Frank, not acknowledging either of them as he heads for the door. It’s the end of November and Mikey shivers as soon as he steps outside, pushing his hands under his armpits and pulling his shoulders up as he hurries across the street.

Mikey loves a lot of things about his job, but he especially loves that he can make it to Starbucks in under thirty seconds. The smell of coffee welcomes him as he steps inside and Mikey immediately relaxes.

“Back so soon?” Alicia raises an eyebrow at Mikey, grabbing one of the venti cups.

“Make it a triple shot,” Mikey sighs as he leans against the counter and studies the bottles of syrup lined up next to the coffee machines, trying to decide if he wants any.

“Bad day?” Alicia asks as she pours milk into a cup. Mikey grunts and pokes at a Starbucks card that’s wonky on the display. He likes things neat. Not that anyone would know, looking at the general mess in his apartment, but as far as Mikey’s concerned that’s an entirely different matter.

“New guy’s an asshole.”

Alicia hums in sympathy. “Sucks when you get new people in and they don’t fit with the team.”

Mikey wishes that were the problem. He wishes he could go into the backroom and bitch about Frank with Ray. As it is, he's the odd one out.

“Smile, Mikeyway.” Alicia’s managed to make a smiley on the foam of Mikey’s coffee with cocoa powder. It does get him to smile a little.

“It’ll work out, I’m sure.” She reaches over to pat his shoulder. “You coming by for lunch today?”

“Yeah.” If he’s still alive by then.

~

When Mikey gets back to the store (the way back always takes him longer because he’s careful not to spill his coffee) Ray is rearranging the shelves, checking expiry dates on the stickers and putting pots in order accordingly. Frank is currently looking slightly desperate as he follows Pete around the store, trying to prevent him from touching the bathbombs and putting his glittery handprints all over everything. Mikey loves Pete.

“Mikeyway!” Pete grins and walks over, going in for a hug. Mikey puts his coffee down on one of the tables to keep it from harm. Pete hugs are always a little intense.

“Oh sweet, you got coffee.”

A quirk of Mikey’s eyebrow is enough to have Pete’s hand stop mid-air. “Not for me?"

Mikey picks his cup up again and walks past Pete to the counter. “Patrick isn’t working today.”

“Balls,” Pete sighs dramatically as he trails behind Mikey, taking a small detour to poke Frank’s side as he passes. Frank swats at him and Ray looks up from the shelving. “Pete, don’t you have a job? Or somewhere to be?”

“You wound me, Toro.” Pete clutches his hoodie over his heart. “You know you love having me here.”

Ray stares at Pete before he turns back to shelving, without a world.

Disappointed that he’s not getting a rise out of Ray, Pete turns to his newest victim – Frank.

“So.” Pete hops up on the counter and swings his legs, looking Frank up and down. “Frank, right? Tell me something about yourself, Frank.”

Frank looks completely lost for a few seconds and Mikey has to try very hard to keep from laughing. Pete’s got it in him to weird out even the strangest guys. He shuffles a few piles of paper and notes around on the counter behind Pete, occasionally peering up at Frank and sipping his coffee.

“Hi, I’m Frank and I don’t like douchebags who get glittery handprints all over everything.” Frank says it with the sweetest of smiles and turns to arrange a stack of Fresh Farmacy soaps. Pete laughs his braying donkey laugh. Ray twitches at the sound.

“Aw man, you’ll learn to appreciate the glitter.”

Mikey hopes Pete's wrong. If Frank hates glitter then he can put another thing on the list of things he wants to do to Frank. Pete can help him. He can run his glittery hands all over Frank’s backpack in the staff room.

“Where’ve you worked before?” Pete continues his investigation, leaning forward. Mikey curls his fingers under the belt loop of the ridiculous, bright red jeans Pete is wearing to keep him from falling off the counter.

“The gas station. Why do you wanna know?” Frank casts a suspicious look in Pete’s direction, still fussing with the same soap bar he held a minute ago. Mikey snorts. He should’ve known. A gas station person is not cut out to work at Lush.

“Just because,” Pete shrugs easily, the backs of his feet bumping against the counter a little louder each time he swings his legs. “How come you abandoned your brilliant career in gas-stationing?”

Frank looks over at Ray, who doesn’t acknowledge him and studies a pot of Dream Cream. Frank’s alone in this.

“Got shit for taking the weekends off,” Frank mumbles, peering at Pete from under his fringe. “Brian said he’d be okay with that though,” he adds, like he’s afraid that Pete is one of Brian’s spies.

“Cool,” Pete replies and reaches back to bat at Mikey’s hand before hopping off the counter. “Well, as always it’s been an immense pleasure seeing you, gentlemen. And,” he turns around and leans over the counter, grinning at Mikey, “you’ve been the highlight of my day, MWay, since Patrick isn’t around,” he winks, then mouths “Text me,” and jerks his head in Frank’s direction.

“I’ll tell Patrick you said hello,” Mikey replies with a small smile. He feels kind of bad about all of Pete’s failed attempts to woo Patrick because he knows that Pete really does care about Patrick. He just hides it under a lot of obnoxiousness.

“Cool. See you, cupcake.”

On his way out Pete makes sure to slap Frank’s back, leaving a glittery handprint on his ratty Def Leppard shirt. Mikey hides his grin behind his coffee cup.

~

It all started out as a temporary job over the Christmas holidays. Mikey had quit Barnes and Noble, stupid enough to believe that his band would make it. One crash and burn later he was living back home with no money, no plans and a lot of bitterness.

It had been one of the strange coincidences of life that he passed the “TEMP WANTED” sign on his way to Starbucks, the kind of decision you make but can’t explain.  
The store had been crammed, people on a buying bender so close to Christmas, and the two shop assistants frazzled and stressed. It had taken some time for Mikey to get their attention and ask about the vacancy, leaving with the promise of a call he never expected to come.

A day later he had an interview with Brian Schechter. Schechter was desperate enough for a Christmas temp to hire Mikey. who had no other prospects and liked the Lush hair stuff, so it seemed like a perfect deal.

In the first week of Mikey working they sold almost twice as many hair products as usual. Nobody could explain it, because Mikey never _did_ anything, wasn’t even particularly friendly to the customers, but it worked and by the time New Years rolled around Schechter approached him with the offer of a full time position.

Mikey has been working at Lush for almost a year now and he likes his job, he really does. He got his life back on track, moved out from home and into a small apartment in the city with Alicia, not too far away from work or Gerard’s place. Alicia is the best kind of roommate, still up when he gets home from a night out and willing to play Halo with him until they fall asleep. They’re thinking about getting a cat. Gerard seems to have finally found his balance. Mikey’s life was good. Then Frank came along, systematically breaking open old wounds. Mikey’s band used to frequently play the Iron Monkey and Mikey would invite people to come see them. He used to have all the things Frank is excited about now: a band, a possible contract with a major label, and the chance of his dreams coming true. Thinking back Mikey guesses his mother was right when saying that things that seem too good to be true usually are.

It was stupid to think that he could earn his money as a musician. Most days Mikey’s fine with that, but watching Frank living his dream, and the possibility of him succeeding where Mikey failed, hurts.

When it comes down to it the world order is still the same it was in high school: Mikey is still an awkward guy with impossible dreams, who never gets anything right, and Frank Iero is still stupidly pretty, popular, and succeeding at everything he does, even though he doesn’t deserve it. Frank was an asshole in high school, mocking Gerard all the time, stealing his sketchbooks and drawing dicks in them, hiding Gerard’s good pencils and Mikey’s cassettes. Apparently the universe is rewarding him for that by giving him an awesome career and it’s not.fucking.fair.  
At all.

~

Saturday night Mikey’s blankly starring at the TV, curled up under a fortress of blankets, while Alicia and Gerard quote along with the movie. It’s gotten to the point where all three of them know all the lines of all the Lord of the Rings movies by heart. Extended editions.

Usually it would be a perfect Saturday night, but Mikey can’t focus. His mind keeps drifting to smoky bars and Frank on stage. Mikey knows the feeling, the adrenaline, the goddamn _hope_. He wonders if Frank’s band is being chased by labels. If Ray’s gone to the show. If he’s enjoying it, he and Frank bonding over mutual interests.

Mikey’s mind keeps spinning in circles and it’s making his head hurt. He sinks further down into his nest of blankets, like it’s a shield between him and the world. He won’t be able to go to sleep, so instead he tries to focus on the happenings on screen. Maybe orcs getting stabbed will calm him.

~

On Monday they get the first of the Christmas stock. Mikey cuts one of the cartons open and glances inside, smiling to himself. It’s strange to think that he’s been here for almost a year.

“Oh, cool, did they send some Snow Fairy already? People keep asking about it.” Ray peers over Mikey’s shoulder and grabs a pot of green shower jelly. “These are too complicated for me. I don’t like them. They remind me of Flubber.”

“Right?” Mikey agrees, opening one of the pots and poking at the green jelly dubiously. Frank can demonstrate that stuff and try to sell it.

“Snow Fairy’s in here too,” he answers Ray’s question, pointing at the pink bottles. “Glögg too, I think. It was on the list.”

Ray’s already double-checking the list and cartons, humming to himself.

“We gotta make room for all this. And put the posters up.”

Mikey puts the shower jelly back into the carton and nods. It’s going to be a long day. He likes it when they get new things in, but shifting stuff around and redecorating is a task he’d prefer not to do on a Monday morning after only three cups of coffee.

“I brought you a bottle of diet coke.”

Ray Toro is a saint among the living and Mikey conveys his feelings of joy by giving him a long look that makes Ray crack up.

“Go, get yourself caffeinated.”

Mikey doesn’t need to be told twice. His shoulders drop when the warmth of the staff room washes over him. It’s tiny, cluttered and much more comfortable than any other staff room Mikey’s ever seen. Ray’s put posters up on the wall and the couch is old, ratty and incredibly comfortable. There’d once been a coffee maker on the narrow kitchen counter, but it mysteriously disappeared during Mikey’s second month at the store.

It could’ve been the perfect Monday morning, sitting on the couch and drinking his coke before putting on the apron and opening the store. However, Mikey’s brain had omitted the fact that he would have to see Frank again on Monday. Frank, who is curled up on the couch, shadows under his eyes, looking like he rolled out of bed three minutes ago and sipping Mikey’s coke.  
Mikey trips over his own feet as he comes to an abrupt halt, taking everything in again. It can’t be true.

“Oh, hey.” Frank looks over at him with heavily-lidded eyes and waves tiredly. “Sorry, needed caffeine. It’s been a long weekend.” He smiles and Mikey’s eyelid twitches. “Was that yours? I’m gonna get you a new one on my break.”

Mikey’s eyes widen before he exhales sharply through his nose and walks stiffly past Frank. He’s going to get coffee and then everything is going to be okay. His day is not going to be ruined by a wannabe rockstar, waltzing in and looking rough from his no doubt fabulous weekend, and treating the staff room like a dressing room, assuming everything is his.

Alicia takes one look at Mikey when he enters Starbucks and turns to the coffee machine to work her magic. One of the many things Mikey loves her for is that she knows when to ask questions and make him talk and when to be quiet, leave him be and hand him a triple shot mocha.

~

Mikey feels a little bit calmer by the time he leaves Starbucks. His body is buzzing with caffeine and Alicia proposed a night of gore and zombies, which is something to look forward to. He only has to survive 8 hours at work. Totally doable.

Ray is looking shifty when Mikey gets back to the store, which is never a good sign. Mikey purses his lips and makes a beeline for the staff room to get his apron. But between Mikey and the staff room there is a Frank-sized obstacle (which is not too impressive), holding a giant bottle of Diet Coke and smiling sheepishly.

“Hey.”

Mikey stops dead on his tracks, shoulders pulled up. He really, really doesn’t want to talk to Frank. But that is a 2 litre bottle of Diet Coke. Mikey really, really wants that.

“So, Ray told me he’d bought that Coke for you and I’m totally sorry I just took it. Wasn’t quite thinking straight, it’s far too early.” Frank’s smile gets even more sheepish and Mikey hates that he actually finds it endearing. “But, uh, I bought you another bottle? A bigger one? A better one?” Frank holds up the Diet Coke as if Mikey might’ve overlooked it, his expression all hopeful puppy dog.

Mikey can practically feel the back of his neck starting to burn from the intensity of Ray’s stare and possible attempts to communicate with Mikey via telepathy, telling him to be nice.  
It takes another few seconds, during which Frank’s smile starts cracking and Ray clearing his throat repeatedly before Mikey says “Thanks,” and takes the bottle from Frank.

For a second it looks like Frank wants to hug him or something ridiculous, but Ray seems to give him some kind of non-verbal signal behind Mikey’s back because he deflates and says “Cool,” instead.

Mikey nods and takes his bottle to the back, attempting to wedge it into the tiny fridge. He can’t deny that it was a nice gesture on Frank’s part. People can change, after all, and Frank maybe isn’t the douchebag he was in high school anymore. Still as handsome, but 90% less douchebag. Maybe.

~

Arranging things so there is room for the Christmas products is always a bit of a task because Ray is ridiculously OCD about the way things are ordered. But between the three of them most of the work is done by early afternoon and Mikey’s feeling decidedly less grumpy. It turns out Frank’s got a decent taste in music and is easy to talk to because he’s willing to keep a conversation going even if Mikey only gives one-word answers or nods.

Mikey is arranging the shampoo bars after a girl poked through them, picked them up and put them down again in random places, when the door opens and Gerard stumbles in, clutching a giant cup of coffee to his chest. He’s got a deadline coming up and looks even crazier than usual.

Next to Mikey, Frank starts giggling.

“Look at that guy,” he whispers, nodding at Gerard who’s tugging his scarf down so it isn’t hiding half of his face. “He’s gonna need the strongest shampoo we have.”

Mikey nearly breaks the shampoo bar he’s holding in half. Assholes like Frank Iero never change, he should’ve known.

Mikey puts the shampoo bar down, resists the urge to step on Frank’s toes and walks over to his brother.

“Hey,” Gerard’s face lights up and he nearly spills his coffee when he hugs Mikey.

“Lunch break?” Mikey asks when he pulls back, looking at Gerard’s face to assess his current state. Tired, but not frazzled or in need of Mikey sending him to bed.

Gerard nods and holds his coffee up. Mikey quirks an eyebrow. He loves coffee as much as his brother, but even he knows that it is not an adequate substitute for nutrition. Well, not always.  
Gerard only hums vaguely, already peering over Mikey’s shoulder at Ray, who’s currently rearranging face masks in the fridge. Mikey rolls his eyes and goes to grab the leftovers from his lunch from the staff room. There’s been a weird kind of _thing_ between Gerard and Ray for a few months now that neither of them admits to. Mikey still isn’t entirely sure if he’s amused or embarrassed.

“Get a sandwich on the way back to work.” Mikey sounds like their mom. The things Gerard does to him.

“Yeah. Sure,” Gerard agrees absently-minded. “Hi Ray!” He wiggles his fingers in a wave and nearly spills his coffee again. Mikey pries it from his fingers (and it says a lot about how distracted Gerard is that he allows it) and carries it over to the counter, pointedly ignoring Frank, who’s still standing by the hair care products.

“Gerard, hey!” Ray nearly pushes a few pots out of the fridge as he pulls back rapidly.

Just then Frank’s attention seeking syndrome kicks in and he steps forward. “Hi, I’m Frank.”

Mikey frowns at the counter and takes a sip of Gerard’s coffee.

“Oh, uh, hi!” Gerard goes from confused to friendly, waving awkwardly at Frank. “Gerard.”

“Gerard Way, right?” Frank asks and Mikey rolls his eyes. Clearly Frank is a genius. “I totally remember you from high school!”

Of course Frank would remember. Mikey huffs and pokes at the shampoo tins set up next to the register.

“I’m Frank. Iero.”

Mikey doesn’t even have to look up to know that Gerard is trying to place Frank’s name and face, or the way Gerard lights up once he gets it.

“Oh yes, I remember. Belleville High, right? Cool to see you again, Frank. How’re you doing?” Gerard believes in giving people second chances and shit, which sometimes really annoys Mikey.

Like right now. He’s told Gerard what kind of douche the new guy is, yet here his brother is, making nice with him.

Mikey tunes Frank gushing about how great the job is and how nice everyone is out, and finishes Gerard’s coffee as punishment.

When a customer comes in Mikey is for once the first to walk over and ask if he can be of assistance. Usually he just stands around and only helps customers if they approach him and he absolutely has to. It’s been a mystery that Brian has been trying to solve from the moment he hired Mikey, but it’s his thing. People like to buy the stuff Mikey shows them. He can’t really explain it, it’s not like he does anything special.

The girl’s face lights up when Mikey approaches her. She doesn’t look much older than eighteen, is wearing far too much make-up and her perfume gives Mikey a headache.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Oh, uh,” she looks around and Mikey barely holds back a sigh. She’s one of the undecided kind who look at everything and leave with nothing.

“I’m looking for,” she starts slowly, tugging a strand of blonde hair that got stuck to her glossy lips back behind her ear, “some kind of scrub?” She looks at Mikey with wide eyes.

“Body or face?” he asks, hoping that either she’ll take the first product he recommends or that he can unload her on Frank.

“Body.”

Mikey shows her where the scrubs are and points at Sugar Scrub. “This is the one we sell most.”

The girl hums and leans in, picking up one of the scrubs, causing Mikey to purse his lips. He doesn’t get why some customers have to touch everything.

“I don’t know. You don’t have something more. . . liquid, do you? I couldn’t keep this in the shower without it making a mess.”

“Use a tin,” Mikey say, not even trying to be nice about it.

“Oh. Yes, I’ll do that!” Her face lights up and she acts like Mikey’s just shown her the light. “I’ll take one of those then.”

Mikey takes the scrub from her and goes to wrap it. She tries to make small talk while he rings her purchase up, but when Mikey’s answers are not even one-word but one-syllable ones she gives up and leaves.

Frank is arranging the shower gels and Ray is apparently showing Gerard the Bûche de Noël cleanser, which is in itself a strange occurrence. Gerard’s cheeks are turning pink when Ray takes his hand and demonstrates the cleanser on the back of his hand. As if Gerard would ever use a cleanser.

“Hey man, I’m sorry about, you know, before.”

Frank is not only annoying but apparently also a ninja. Mikey shrugs and checks his phone for messages.

“Didn’t know it was your brother and I really didn’t wanna insult him. My brain-mouth filter doesn’t always work.” Frank smiles sheepishly, but Mikey isn’t fooled by it. It’s not an issue of a missing brain-mouth filter. Even if Frank hadn’t said it, he would’ve _thought_ it.

Mikey makes a vague noise of acknowledgement, but doesn’t look up from his phone and taps out a text to Pete. He’s typing extra slow because Frank doesn’t seem to get the hint and stays where he is. When the silence between them stretches to the point of even Mikey feeling uncomfortable, Frank shifts and mumbles something about a bathroom break. As if Mikey cares about Frank’s bathroom breaks.

Once Mikey’s sure that Frank has gone he puts his phone away with a sigh and looks up. Ray and Gerard are still by the water bowl, though Mikey doubts that they are still talking about cleansers, even if Ray’s got a lot of opinions about skincare.

“Be back in five.” Neither Ray nor Gerard acknowledge Mikey as he leaves. Not only does Mikey excel at being a little brother, he’s also a fabulous wingman and Gerard’s personal avenger. He totally deserves a triple shot caramel macchiato for that.

~

Gerard wolfs down the sandwich Mikey brings him, then looks around for his coffee, pouting when he notices it’s gone. Mikey takes an obnoxiously loud sip from his macchiato. It tastes even better than usual.

“I gotta get going,” Gerard mumbles and hugs Mikey tightly, his fingertips digging into Mikey’s shoulder. Gerard’s hugged him like this since they were kids, fingers digging in, cheeks pressed together.

“Don’t sleep at the office again,” Mikey says as he hugs Gerard back, making a mental note to call and check in once the store closes. Gerard rolls his eyes and pulls back, wrapping his scarf around his neck until it covers the tip of his nose.

“Bye Frank, ‘t was nice meeting you.” Walking in the general direction of the door Gerard nearly falls over a table with soaps while waving at Ray. “Uh. Bye. I’ll see you around. Or. Something.”

Clearly Mikey got all the suaveness in the family.

When Gerard leaves another customer comes in, but Mikey let's Frank and Ray handle that one and goes to have the sandwich he bought for himself in the back, scrolling through the texts  
Pete sent in rapid succession, detailing plans to get rid of Frank.

The one where he slips on a shower jelly and breaks a leg seems especially appealing when Mikey leaves the staff room and the first thing he hears is, “Penny and Leonard are so not going to end up together!”

Ray is spluttering and nearly pushing over a bowl of water. He’s got opinions about Penny and Leonard, Mikey knows, because they have had countless arguments in the past. He’d rather cut out his own tongue, though, than admit that he agrees with Frank.

“No way, man. It would be way too obvious.” Frank says, nearly dropping a big chunk of Demon in the Dark soap.

“Sometimes TV shows are all about being obvious!” Ray argues.

Mikey goes to get fresh ice to keep the display of facemasks cool. Seriously, why does Ray have to be nice to _everyone_? He’s the one with the glaringly obvious crush on Gerard, he should be the first to defend him and be mad at Frank. Instead they are discussing the Big Bang Theory, something Mikey and Ray used to do.

“Come back you silly bird so I can love you!”

Mikey rolls his eyes when Ray laughs at Frank’s Sheldon imitation and rearranges the facemask pots with more force than necessary. When he started working at Lush Ray didn’t instantly  
bond with him like that.

~

Ever since Mikey came into work this morning Ray has been edging around him, glancing his way and opening his mouth like he wants to say something. It reminds Mikey of the time when he was new to the store and Ray wanted to approach him about his skin care routine but needed over a week until he finally had the guts to say something. It had ended with Mikey leaving the store with a bag full of products and his acne clearing up within three weeks. Ray Toro is, without a doubt, the patron saint of skin care. On more than one occasion girls have come running into the store in a panic, made a beeline for Ray and flailed and whispered in horrified voices about pimples and breaking out. Ray always has long, hushed conversations with them, finding the perfect plan of immediate attack and follow up products.

Back then they hadn’t known each other for very long and Ray had apparently been nervous about offending Mikey (he’d made Mikey’s spots go away, why the hell would Mikey be offended?), but they’ve known each other for a year now, are friends outside of work and frequently hang out. There is absolutely nothing Ray couldn’t talk to him about. His nervousness is making Mikey nervous.

“So, what’s up with you and Frank?” Ray eventually asks, looking up from where he is arranging Christmas gift boxes. Mikey, leaning against the counter, reties the knot of his apron and shrugs.

“Nothing. Why would something be up?” he asks, trying not to sound annoyed. Seriously, what the fuck? Frank’s coming in this afternoon and Mikey had been looking forward to a relaxed morning at work, just him and Ray, the way it used to be. But no, now they have to talk about fucking Frank, even when fucking Frank isn’t present.

“I don’t know. It just seems,” Ray waves his hands and nearly knocks some of the boxes to the floor. His voice has gone very high, which is never a good sign, “that things are really tense between you guys and I’m wondering why. It doesn’t make for a very good work atmosphere, you know?”

Mikey huffs and tugs on the knot of his apron again, wishing he had a cup of coffee. Or a basket of softballs to throw at Ray. Not only has Frank waltzed into the store like he owns it, now it's also Mikey’s fault that things are tense. Awesome.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replies, voice even flatter than usual, and inspects his fingernails.

“Mikey,” Ray sighs. “C’mon, you know you can tell me, right?”

Mikey knows. Ray is one of his best friends and Mikey would trust him with all his secrets, but he also knows Ray well enough to realize that Ray wouldn’t understand. Ray is a people pleaser. He gets on well with everyone, as the bonding he’s done with Frank shows.

“It’s nothing,” he says again, glancing up at Ray, hoping that he’ll drop the topic. “Hey, we were thinking movie night on Saturday. You in?” Mikey tries not to sound hopeful or needy or something ridiculous like that, because part of him is convinced that Ray is going to turn him down because he’s got plans with Frank.

Mikey almost exhales with relief when Ray positively beams at him and nods. “Sure, sounds grand. I’ll bring snacks.”

“Cool,” Mikey smiles, feeling like an invisible weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It’s stupid, really. He doesn’t need to fight Frank for Ray. But everyone is so naturally drawn to Frank, it’s fucking annoying.

“Okay,” Ray nods, still smiling. “So things are good?” he adds, expression shifting to concerned again.

“Sure,” Mikey says, looking down and pretending like he’s checking something off on a list.

The rest of the morning at work is good, things like they used to be, and Mikey is starting to love work again. Then Frank comes in at midday, blasting through the door like a tiny snowstorm, grinning widely and babbling as soon as he’s got his scarf tugged down and out of the way.

Mikey can feel a headache coming. He sighs and withdraws again, only contributing what is absolutely necessary to Ray’s and Frank’s conversation, when they ask for his opinion.

His afternoon only looks up when Pete comes in and hands him a gigantic cup of coffee with a solemn face. “I come with offerings of peace, greatest guru of them all.”

Mikey ignores Frank’s snort and takes the coffee with an equally solemn face, because coffee? Is serious business.

“Patrick working today then?”

“Yep.” Pete hops up on the counter and swings his legs, heels hitting the counter in a rhythmic pattern. “You guys are totally behind, they already got the Santa hats out at Starbucks. Rick looks absolutely adorable.”

Mikey hopes that Alicia is going to tell him all the details of Pete harassing Patrick tonight.

“Got the boppers in already, guess we’ll start wearing them soon.” And by ‘we’ Mikey naturally means ‘Ray and Frank’. He’s seen a particularly stupid one with swinging reindeer heads and glittery fur covering. It’s got Frank’s name written all over it. If Mikey were an evil genius in a movie he’d pet his cat and cackle.

Pete isn’t even paying attention to Mikey anymore. Instead he’s starring across the store at Frank, and when Frank turns and lifts an eyebrow at him, Pete points at his eyes and then at Frank in an ‘I am watching you’ gesture. It’s not really threatening, but judging by the look of discomfort on Frank’s face Pete looks enough like a maniac that it is unsettling.

“You should hang a mistletoe in Starbucks,” Mikey suggests, barely managing to step back quick enough to avoid getting whacked in the head by Pete’s flailing hand.

“Yes! Mikeyway, you are a genius.” Pete swivels around on the counter, pulls Mikey close and gives him a loud, smacking kiss. “Absolute genius,” he grins, letting go off the front of Mikey’s apron and jumping down from the counter.

“I’m a man on a mission.”

Mikey doesn’t point out that Pete is always on a mission. A mission called seducing Patrick, aka Mission Impossible.

“Where does one buy mistletoe?” Pete looks at Mikey, Frank and Ray. When neither of them says anything his heroic pose deflates a little. “C’mon, guys. Ray. Ray, c’mon, you’re the man who knows everything.”

“I. Uhm.” Ray scratches his head. “Maybe try Walmart? I mean, they got everything there, so why not mistletoe?”

“Yes!” Ray nearly backs into a display of soaps when Pete takes a step forward, obviously afraid that he’s going to get kissed as well.

“Walmart or this tiny flower shop two blocks from here. Know which one I mean?” Frank pipes in.

Pete looks at him, long and hard, before he shakes his head and makes for the door. “I know which one you mean, but we don’t like you, so I won’t take your suggestion into consideration.”

Mikey nearly spits his coffee back into the cup, trying not to laugh. He fucking loves Pete Wentz.

~

“You didn’t invite Pete, did you?” Ray asks when he shoulders his way into Mikey’s and Alicia’s apartment Saturday night, balancing a bulging bag of groceries in his arms.

“Course I did, he’s waiting in the living room for you. Under the mistletoe,” Mikey replies without infliction and follows Ray.

“That’s not funny, Mikey.” Ray glares at him and sets the bag down on the counter with a huff, pulling out bags of chips, Doritos, popcorn, a tub of Ben&Jerry’s and several bars of Toblerone. Ray is amazing when it comes to food shopping.

“Gee and Alicia are already in the living room.”

Ray nearly drops the bowl he’s taken from one of the cabinets. “You didn’t mention that Gerard would be here.”

Mikey raises an eyebrow and stares at Ray for several seconds. How can he honestly be surprised that he’s invited Gerard? Mikey _always_ invites Gerard. Not that Gerard needs to be invited, Gerard is wherever Mikey is.

“Yeah. That a problem?” Mikey takes the bowl from Ray and sets it down on the counter before ripping a bag of chips open and emptying the contents into it. For some reason Ray really likes eating out of bowls. As opposed to Alicia, Gerard, and Mikey, who eat everything straight from the package, he’s actually got manners.

“What? No, no not at all!” Ray’s voice is going shrill again and it takes all of Mikey’s self-discipline to keep from grinning.

“We were trying to decide what to watch when you knocked. Either all the Potter movies or the first season of True Blood?”

“Harry Potter,” Ray says without so much as thinking about it. “I saw one episode of True Blood and I can’t get into it. Her tooth gap is distracting me.”

“That’s what Gee said.” Mikey tears the wrapper off a Toblerone bar and takes a bite, wandering back into the living room and leaving Ray to deal with the food.

“Ray says Harry Potter.” Mikey flops down on the couch next to Alicia, who promptly steals his Toblerone.

“Good choice.” Gerard is setting up the DVD player, so he doesn’t see Mikey rolling his eyes. These two are so oblivious it hurts.

Alicia pats Mikey’s head and he huffs and sinks down on the couch, turning sideways so his head is resting on her chest. Alicia makes for an awesome cushion.

“If you get a cat you should totally call it Crookshanks.”

Alicia’s and Mikey’s “no” comes in perfect unison. Gerard’s always been a shitty name-giver.

“I’m thinking Sauron,” Alicia says around a mouthful of chocolate. Mikey pokes her side and huffs. She gets far too much pleasure out of riling Gerard up.

“What? You can’t name your cat Sauron!” Gerard nearly drops the DVD as he stares at Alicia with wide eyes. “That’s, just, no!” He flails and Mikey hopes that Ray’ll hurry up with the food and distract Gerard from the monologue he’s about to get started on. “It would be all kinds of wrong on so many levels.”

Great, there are levels to it. Mikey rolls his eyes and takes the Toblerone back from Alicia.

“What would be?” Ray asks as he enters the room, a bowl of popcorn in one, a bowl of Doritos in the other hand and bars of Toblerone under his arm.

“Alicia wants to name their cat Sauron!” Gerard exclaims, like the end of the world is near. Ray wrinkles his nose and puts the food down on the table.

“That’s not a good name for a cat. Darth Vader would be cooler. Or Anakin.”

Gerard’s outrage melts away and is replaced by hearts in his eyes. Mikey snorts against Alicia’s shoulder and she swats at the back of his head.

“Don’t laugh at young, innocent love, Mikeyway.”

“It’s not young or innocent. More like a grandpa driving on the highway.” Mikey mumbles. If Ray and Gerard don’t get it together soon he’s going to lock them into the bathroom. Ray can demonstrate how to use shower gel and everyone would win.

~

Five hours later Harry is fighting Lord Voldemort again and Ray is asleep on the second couch, hand in the almost empty bowl of popcorn. Gerard is sitting on the floor, still wide-awake, Alicia is dozing on the couch and Mikey is watching the screen without really seeing what is happening. By the time they get to the final movie he’ll be properly awake again and not sleep until he has to go to work in the morning. Which, yeah. Ugh.

“I don’t wanna go to work in the morning,” Mikey mutters, causing Alicia to grumble and shift under him.

“What?” Gerard turns around, eyes looking huge in the flickering light from the TV. “You love your job.”

Mikey shrugs and starts picking pieces of lint off Alicia’s hoodie. “Frank ruined it.” He’s vaguely aware of sounding like a pouty teenager.

Alicia cards a hand through his hair sleepily, her nails scratching over his scalp.

“I don’t get what your problem is with him. He seems nice enough.”

Why does Gerard of all people have to say that? There are more than enough reasons for him to dislike Frank.

“He’s still the same prick he was in high school.”

“What’d he do?” Alicia’s voice is low and deep with sleep and Mikey closes his eyes, tries to relax.

“Dunno. He was one of the stoner idiots, kept making fun of Gee and shit.”

“Ah.” Alicia knows all about Mikey’s protectiveness over Gerard.

“People change, Mikey. And he was never super mean or anything.” Gerard is not helpful. There were plenty of times when Frank was mean in high school, mocking and tripping Gerard. Or that one time when he’d stolen the batteries from Mikey’s cassette player, which had resulted in the worst day ever because Mikey had had to listen to all the stupid conversations and giggling and screeching going on in the cafeteria during lunch. “And you had a bit of a crush on him,” Gerard continues. Mikey tries to kick him, but Gerard is quick to squirm out of reach.

“You’re just being pissy because he didn’t take you to prom.”

“Shut up,” Mikey groans and tries to kick Gerard again. It’s not even half as funny as Gerard thinks and not true at all. Mikey never had a crush on Frank. Not back then and not now, when Frank has waltzed back into Mikey’s life, still the same idiot, sans the awful dreadlocks, is everyone’s best friend, and constantly talks about music and bands and gigs his band booked. Seriously, as if it wasn’t enough that he is still stupidly attractive, he has to live Mikey’s dream as well.

Mikey grumbles, turns into Alicia’s side and let’s her pat his head. Nobody understands his woes.

~

Going to work the next morning is hell. As predicted Mikey was wide-awake by the time the final battle of Hogwarts rolled around. He and Gerard had been talking, drinking coffee and drawing until morning, Ray and Alicia passed out on the couch and the DVD menu replaying over and over again.

Alicia had the day off, so when Ray’s alarm had gone off she’d grumbled and disappeared into her bedroom. Mikey has never envied her so much. If he's lucky it's going to be a quiet day at the store and he can catch a quick nap in the staff room.

Clutching his mug full of fresh, hot, amazingly strong coffee, Mikey shuffles after Ray into the store. He is about to make a beeline for the staff room, but Frank fucking Iero has to ruin his morning, stepping into his way with an unsure grin.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Frank.” Ray is too cheerful and too fucking awake for this time of the day. Mikey takes another sip of coffee.

“There’re elf costumes in the back?”

Mikey quirks an eyebrow. Why the heck is Frank telling them that? Should they call the local newspaper to make an announcement?

“Oh yeah, Brian brought those by yesterday. We’re having a stand at the market today, part of the profit is gonna go to the animal shelter.”

The corners of Mikey’s lips twitch involuntarily. Getting rid off Frank? His day has just started to look up.

“I forgot to tell you about that, Mikey. Brian said he signed you and Frank up for it.”  
Mikey nearly drops his coffee and looks at Ray, trying to set his hair on fire with the powers of his mind, just like he did with his math books back in school. It still doesn’t work.

“What?” he grits out between clenched teeth. If this is one of Ray’s stupid attempts for universal harmony Mikey is going to throw his coffee in Ray’s face.

“Yeah,” Ray shrugs uncomfortably. “He said you sell most stuff and the customers like Frank.” Mikey keeps starring at Ray, who breaks after five seconds and sighs, throwing his hands up.

“Fine, he said that he doesn’t trust either of you not to set the store on fire if left to your own devices.”

Mikey's starting to suspect that he did fall asleep after all. This can’t be true. He’s still in a state of disbelief an hour later, standing behind a Lush stand in a ridiculous elf costume.  
Frank is bouncing on the balls of his feet next to him, apparently excited about everything going on at the market. For some reason he manages to look good in the costume. It’s probably because he’s tiny. Elf things must come naturally to him.

“This is really amazing.” Frank beams at Mikey like a kid under the Christmas tree. “It’s nice to be out of the store for a change and we’re doing this for a good cause. I got four dogs, three are from the shelter. The people there are amazing, but they need all kinds of new things.”

Mikey has never been to the shelter, but he’s talked about getting a cat from there with Alicia. When Gerard and him were kids they used to have a dog. Mikey likes animals and Frank’s right, it’s a great move from Brian, signing them up to do a charity stand for the shelter. All the other stands around them support charities that help children in Africa, which is a great cause and all, but Mikey doesn’t trust stuff like that. You never know if your donations end up where they’re supposed to. He prefers local things and supporting the shelter suits Lush.

“You got any pets?” Frank asks while rearranging a pyramid of shampoo bars.

“No,” Mikey replies, tugging on the sleeves of his costume, which are slightly too short. “I mean. We’re thinking about getting a cat.” He figures he can at least try and make the hours he has to spend alone with Frank bearable.

“Yeah? That’s cool,” Frank nods. “You and your girlfriend?”

“What?” Mikey blinks.

“Assuming you didn’t just use the royal we?” Frank giggles and tugs his elf hat down to cover his ears.

“Oh. No,” Mikey shakes his head. “Alicia and I.”

“So you and your girlfriend.”

“No. Me and Alicia.”

Mikey and Frank stare at each other for a few seconds, before Frank waves his hand around. “And Alicia is?”

“My housemate.” Mikey doesn’t really get Frank’s confusion. Just then a group of giggly girls comes up to the stand and starts asking them questions, which Mikey let’s Frank answer on his own while he texts Pete to inform him about his tragic life.

Frank is telling the girls all about the products and the profit going to charity, which makes them coo. One of them buys a shampoo bar and smiles at Frank coyly from behind her overly long fringe. Mikey can tell what’s coming.

“I’d love to hear more about animal rights.”

Mikey barely manages not to snort. She’s wearing fake nails and carries an itsy-bitsy Louis Vitton bag. The outfit is topped of by a fur vest. The hell she gives a damn about animal rights.

“Do you maybe, I dunno, wanna, like, grab coffee together some time?”

Frank’s smile never wavers as he hands her the change and her bag. “Sure, if you want to.” If her smile gets any wider her lips are going to crack. Mikey should’ve known that Frank would go  
for a Barbie like that.

“I’ll bring my boyfriend along, he’s working for PETA and knows more about it than I do.”

Mikey does a double take and for a second he’s sure he looks as stupidly confused as the girl. Of all the things he had expected.

“Oh. Yeah. Um. Sure,” the girl mumbles, clutching her bag. She’s kind of glaring now, strands of hair stuck in her heavily mascara-ed eyelashes.

“Maybe another time.”

She turns around and leaves with her friends. One of them turns around with a sour expression on her face, wrapping her arm around her friend and telling her not to be “sad, you’re far too good for that fucking faggot.”

Frank only rolls his eyes and turns back to Mikey. “Yeah, so, a cat would be cool. I’m still living at my mom’s.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at the ground as he says it. “I’m out a lot and sometimes we get to do tours and it’s just more convenient, you know? Saves me money too.” He explains. Mikey gets that, really, he does, because he’s been in the same situation. Sans four dogs. It doesn’t mean that he wants to hear about Frank’s amazing band again.

“My mom loves the dogs too. And they make her feel safe. Not that we live in a bad neighbourhood, but you know how moms are.”

Mikey knows all about that too, so he nods.

“So yeah, that’s pretty cool. I used to volunteer at the shelter.”

Great, Frank is a fucking Mother Theresa for animals. Why can’t he just be an obvious asshole? An asshole without an adorable smile and ridiculous giggle. It would make disliking him so much easier.

“Yeah?” Mikey mumbles, pushing a few pots of Ultrabland around.

“It was great, but also sad. It’s kind of how I ended up with four dogs. I woulda taken all of them home if I could’ve,” Frank admits sheepishly. “You get attached to them, and they’re so happy to have someone who plays with them and takes them for walks and all that. I mean, people fucking suck. They buy them as presents for their kids and shit, and then after a few months they don’t want them anymore. At least some of them are decent enough to bring them directly to the shelter, but we had some that were abandoned at gas stations or in the forest. Like they are wolves who are going to look after themselves or whatever. People are motherfucking stupid.” Frank is getting worked up and Mikey finds himself nodding, because man, people do suck.

“One of my girls, Peppers, she was found in a trashcan.” Frank’s voice is tight with anger. “She was a pup and starved when she came to the shelter. Wouldn’t let anyone touch her. I think her first owners beat her.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. He only sounds marginally calmer when he continues. “It took me weeks until she let me pet her, but then she wouldn’t leave my side, so I ended up taking her home. She’s the sweetest little thing. I don’t get how anyone could be heartless enough to treat her like that.”

“Man, that’s fucked.” Mikey has to admit that maybe, just maybe, Frank isn’t a complete asshole.

Frank digs his phone out of the pocket of his costume, tapping the screen a few times before he holds it out to Mikey with a smile. “That’s her.”

It’s the ugliest dog Mikey has ever seen. If he’s honest, it doesn’t even look much like a dog. More like a bundle of steel wool.

“She’s. . . cute.” Mikey barely manages not to wave his hands for Frank to take the phone away.

“She is,” Frank beams, then glances at Mikey sideways. “Hey, wanna give me your phone number?”

Mikey blinks, not sure if he’s heard right, before he replies, “No.” He definitely does not want to give Frank Iero his phone number.  
Frank’s face falls. “Why not?”

“What do you want it for?” It’s not like they are friends.

“Y’know, just,” there’s colour rising in Frank’s cheeks and the bell on his elf hat jingles as he shrugs, “Ray mentioned you’re into music too and I figured we probably go to the same places and y’know, could meet up sometime, maybe, or something.”

Why in the world would Mikey want to meet up with Frank in his free time? He’s not some kind of masochist.

“Or, y’know. Just. If I get sick and can’t come in or stuff, and Ray can’t pick up the phone, at least I could call you,” Frank adds hastily, almost dropping his phone as he gestures.

Mikey’s shoulders sink and he gives in with a sigh. He’s not an asshole, after all. Besides, it’s not like Frank is actually going to call him.

“Cool!” Frank presses his phone into Mikey’s hands. Mikey stares at the display and briefly considers typing in a wrong number. A voice that sounds disconcertingly much like Gerard’s reminds him about bad karma and all that shit and Mikey huffily types in the right number.

“There.” Nobody said he had to be friendly.

“Rad. I’ll give you a ring.”

Mikey mirrors Frank’s grin, but drops it and rolls his eyes when Frank looks away. Idiot.

“Aw, I gotta take a picture of this for mom!”

Mikey turns and stares at Gerard, who’s juggling a tray with four Starbucks’ cups in one hand and his phone in the other, raising it to eye level. “Smile, Mikey.”

Mikey flips Gerard off. He’s got the worst brother in the world.

“Now, don’t do that, Michael. It’ll put you on Santa’s naughty list.” Gerard laughs his stupid duck laugh and Mikey grabs one of the cups from his tray and takes a sip of coffee to calm his nerves. Frank’s giggling too and the sound intensifies Mikey’s headache.

“Shut up,” he mumbles against the lid of his cup, eyeing Gerard over it. He’s wearing approximately five scarves and there’s a piece of popcorn stuck in his hair. “What’re you doing up already?”

“Oh. Didn’t go to sleep,” Gerard shrugs and puts the tray down on the table, sipping his own coffee. “I had this crazy idea, so I’m gonna drop by the office.”  
Mikey sighs. It might be a good idea to call Lindsey to make sure Gerard doesn’t fall asleep at his desk again once tiredness overwhelms him.

“Where do you work?” Frank asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet and glancing at the two cups still in the tray.

“Clandestine Designs.”

At Frank’s blank stare Gerard elaborates. “Uh. We do clothing designs for Pete’s line there, but also window displays for stores and posters and cover art and all kinds of stuff.”

“Wait, what? Pete? As in, the Pete?” Frank asks, eyes wide. “The one who hangs around the store all the time?”

“Yep,” Gerard nods and finishes his coffee, putting the empty cup down.

“I thought he was some crazy dude without a job,” Frank says, shaking his head. “He doesn’t seem the kinda guy to own a company.”

Mikey and Gerard exchange a look. It’s more like Pete owns an empire, but they don’t need to break Frank’s mind completely.

“Pete is. . . special,” Gerard replies and starts his second cup of coffee.

“How’d you even know we were here?” Mikey asks, demanding his brother’s attention back, one eyebrow quirked.

“I. Uhm. Went by the store.” Gerard scratches his head and messes his hair up even more. Mikey is entirely unconvinced that the color on his brother’s cheeks is a consequence of the cold.

“Did you,” he drawls, pining Gerard down with a look.

“Yes.” Gerard sounds defensive. “I wanted to bring you and Ray coffee, I figured you were tired after last night.”

“Last night?” Frank crashes the conversation again because he’s got no manners. “What was last night?”

There is a pointed silence as Mikey refuses to answer. Noisiness should not be rewarded. Gerard huffs and glares at him before he turns to Frank. “We had a Harry Potter movie marathon.”

“For real? I _love_ Harry Potter!”

Frank’s statement is followed by yet a few more seconds of tense silence before Gerard laughs kind of sheepishly. “We didn’t, uh, know. Or we would’ve, y’know, invited you.”

Mikey narrows his eyebrows, then raises one of them, silently communicating that they totally would not have invited Frank. He’s intruded and taken over Mikey’s work life, he doesn’t need the stupid Halfling, who looks absolutely ridiculous (as in ‘he looks great, this is ridiculous’) in his elf costume, to take over his private life as well.

“It’s cool,” Frank waves like it’s not big deal, but manages to look like a kicked puppy, keeping up a brave façade.

“Next time,” Gerard offers and Mikey stares intently at his brother’s many scarves, attempting to set them on fire.

“Awesome.” Frank is beaming again, bouncing and making the bell on his hat jingle annoyingly.

Gerard smiles, pleased at having done a good deed, before he leans over the table and pulls Mikey into a hug. “I gotta go now, call me when you’re home.”  
Mikey nods and Gerard kisses his cheek before he pulls back.

“Bye, Frank,” he wiggles his fingers in a wave, then frowns at a threat of wool hanging down from his fingerless gloves and shrugs. “See you around.”

“Bye, Gerard.”

Frank and Mikey watch Gerard disappearing in the crowd, cup of coffee clutched protectively to his chest.

“Your brother is kinda cool.”

Mikey isn’t sure if he heard that correctly. Did Frank Iero, who spent his high school time making fun of Gerard just say that his brother was cool?

Mikey is saved from answering by a guy stopping at the stand.

“Mikey? Mikey Way?”

Mikey blinks and wishes he could sink into the ground and disappear. He doesn’t usually mind meeting old friends, but does he have to meet Benji Madden today of all days, when he’s dressed in a stupid elf costume?

“Hi.” Mikey forces his lips to twitch into a brief smile, trying to keep his head as still as possible so the stupid bell on his hat won’t jingle.

“Dude, so good to see you!” Benji grins at him and holds out his fist. Mikey obligatorily bumps it. “It’s been ages! What’ve you been up to?”

Mikey shrugs and tries to act nonchalant. It’s always awkward, meeting people from back in the day.

“Work and stuff, you know,” he replies casually. “What about yourself?”

“Been in the studio, recording.” Benji’s smile is so big it looks like it must be hurting. Mikey can understand the excitement and tries to be happy for him.

“That’s ace, man. Knew you’d make it.”

“Thanks. You’ll be the first one to get a signed copy once the record is out,” Benji laughs. His smile becomes a little more bashful as he continues. “And I finally worked up the balls to ask Nici to marry me. So, I wanted to ask about your new address anyway, we’ll be sending invitations out soon. I texted you, but I think I still got your old number.”

“That’s . . . that’s great.” It’s no struggle to work up a smile this time. Benji and Nicole have been together for as long as he can remember. “You got a, oh wait.” Mikey grabs one of the sign-up sheets for the Lush Newsletter and scribbles his address on the back.

Benji folds it into a square and puts it in the back pocket of his jeans, still smiling. “It’d be grand if you could make it. I miss seeing you around. New London Fires not doing gigs anymore?”  
There’s a knot in Mikey’s throat all of a sudden and he swallows forcefully against it, tries to keep a neutral face. “No. We, uhm. We broke up,” he shrugs and pushes a few pots around on the table, wincing when the stupid bell on his hat jingles happily.

“What, seriously? I thought you were on hiatus or something.” Benji sounds honestly sorry, and it’s terrible. Mikey hates pity, Mikey hates people acting like this.

“Nah,” he pulls his shoulders up, looks sideways, at the table, at the crowd, anywhere but at Benji. “Didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.” Benji reaches over and pats his shoulder. Mikey tries not to flinch away from the touch. He’s fine, his life is good. He doesn’t need this.

“You were in New London Fires?” Frank is starring at Mikey with wide eyes, which in combination with the elf costume makes him look completely ridiculous.

“Yep.” Mikey knows he’s getting snappy, but Frank is the last person he wants to talk with about this.

“Holy shit!” Frank sounds completely stunned and Mikey barely resists the urge to kick him.

“Hey, aren’t you in Pencey Prep?” Benji asks, looking at Frank with narrowed eyes. Frank’s face lights up and he nods. “Yes!” He seems utterly excited that somebody recognized him. Mikey knows how that feels and a tiny part of him, the one that isn’t dead-set on disliking Frank (because it’s easier than having all kinds of complicated feelings) is happy for him.

“I saw your set a few weeks ago, it was pretty solid.”

Before they can start fangirling over each other Mikey steps out from the stall, mumbling something about a bathroom break.

There’s a McDonald’s right by the market square and Mikey goes there, ignoring the stupid looks he gets and the teenagers making fun of him. His vision has tunneled in and he just wants to be _alone_.

The bathroom smells like piss and pieces of toilet paper are lying all over the dirty floor. Soft music is coming from the speakers and the blue light in the stalls makes it feel a little like a Twilight Zone experience.

Mikey locks himself into a stall and leans against the door, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. It seems like your past really is never fucking through with you. Mikey is happy, really, he is, but he could do without stuff like this happening, bringing with it the heaviness of nostalgia and all the “what ifs” that he’s usually great at ignoring. He can’t even wallow in them in peace because Frank has to crash into this part of his life as well.

Mikey pushes away from the door and shakes his head. There is no use in standing in a dirty McDonald’s bathroom, pitying himself. He takes a piss and washes his hands for longer than necessary, looking at himself in the mirror. He looks terrible in the elf costume.

Grabbing a few paper towels Mikey dries his hands and leaves, slowly walking back to the stand. When he gets back Frank is talking to a customer and Benji is nowhere in sight.  
It’s best like this and Mikey spends the rest of the time ignoring Frank’s attempts to start a conversation and keeps up a texting marathon with Pete, talking about what Patrick is wearing today, the new Happy Feet movie, penguins attacking Frank, and if Pete should bleach his hair or not.

~

Mikey isn’t really sure how they ended up watching ‘New Girl’, but Gerard is enchanted. Mikey is amused, yes, but he’d rather watch Ghostbusters or something.

When his phone starts ringing Mikey grabs blindly for it and picks up without looking at the screen. It’s probably Alicia calling before leaving work to check if Gerard is there, so she knows how many coffees to bring. Not that too much coffee would be an issue, but Gerard really likes his with hazelnut _and _vanilla syrup. Mikey tried a sip of it once and nearly puked.__

 _“_ ’ello?” leaning forward Mikey reaches for his can of diet Coke.

“Mikey, hey!”

He freezes, hand hovering in the air. “Um. Hello?”

“Hey. Hey, it’s Frank.”

Mikey knows that, but it doesn’t explain why Frank is calling. Grabbing the can Mikey leans back and takes a slow sip, allowing the awkward silence to stretch like chewing gum. Mikey isn’t good at this. Especially since he never, ever expected Frank to call him.

“Frank. What do you want?”

Gerard tears his eyes away from the screen and looks at Mikey, quirking an eyebrow. Mikey shrugs.

“Oh, yeah, uhm, I guess we’ll skip the small talk part and the ‘how are you’s then,” Frank says and Mikey rolls his eyes. At least he can rest assured, knowing that Frank is just as annoying on the phone as he is in real life.

“My band’s playing a show on Saturday, I wanted to ask if you wanna come?”

“Saturday? No, I don’t really think I can make that,” Mikey replies, picking at his nails. Gerard takes the phone from him before he can protest.

“Frankie? Hi, it’s Gerard.” Whatever Frank replies makes Gerard giggle and Mikey narrows his eyes and stares at the phone. It doesn’t go up in flames. Mikey is a failboat.

“Where are you playing Saturday?”

Mikey kicks Gerard’s shin, but his brother only glares at him before talking directions.

“I know where that is. Yeah. Yeah, cool. I’ll see you there Saturday, Frankie. I’ll bring Mikey. And, uh. Hey. Ray likes music too, you should ask him to come as well.”

Mikey groans and grabs a pillow to bury his face in. If he’s lucky he’ll choke and won’t have to go to Frank’s gig, nor witness the embarrassing mating dance his brother has been performing for months.

~

There’s always a lull in the store between one and five. People’s lunch breaks are over and everyone is back at work or in school. Pete comes over a lot during those hours, watching them clean the store and restock the shelves. Sometimes, when he’s had a bad night, he goes to take a nap in the staff room.

“Alicia totally gave me the thumbs up. That’s good, right? I mean, he didn’t ignore me. And he actually wrote my name on the cup instead of a creative message for me to get lost. That’s totally progress, right?”

“Right.”

“Totally.”

“Sure.” Mikey, Ray and Frank all agree at the same time. By now even Frank knows all about Pete’s epic quest to get Patrick to go out with him. In a very strange, Pete-esque way it’s almost cute.

Pete sighs wistfully before he jumps down from the counter and starts poking at the face mask samples.

“Pete!” Ray seems to move at the speed of lightening and Mikey could swear that he makes it across the store within the blink of an eye.

“Don’t do that,” Ray huffs and slaps Pete’s hand away, looking like he wants to cradle the pots protectively.

“Why not? They are samples, Ray!” Pete points out and tries to touch them again.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean that you can stick your unsanitary little hands into them!” Ray snaps. Then he takes a deep breath and Mikey can practically see him counting up to ten.

“Here.” Ray scoops out a bit of the Cupcake mask with a little spatula and puts it on the back of Pete’s hand. “You know where the water bowls are. Have fun.”  
Pete looks at the brown goo on the back of his hand before he grins and practically skips over to one of the water bowls.

“Wow.”

Mikey had been so fascinated by the events that he hadn’t noticed Frank sidling up to him. Goddamn ninja.

“That was all kinds of impressive.”

Mikey shrugs and takes the trays with the massage bar samples to the sink. They look disgusting. Frank always lets people try products and then he keeps holding the massage bars until they are melt-y, and when he puts them back the trays get smeared. Not to mention that the massage bars look totally deformed.

Putting the bars to the side Mikey rinses the trays under water and scratches at the smears with his thumbnail.

“Here, let me help.”

Frank’s pulled a ninja move again and grabs some paper towels, waiting for Mikey to finish washing. When the silver is absolutely spotless Mikey has no other option and hands the tray over, barely resisting the urge to pull his hand back like he’s been burnt when Frank’s fingers brush his.

Frank smiles and starts drying, humming along to the song playing on the stereo. It makes the boppers sway on his head. Nobody, absolutely nobody, should be allowed to look cute with Christmas fairy boppers on their head.

Mikey scowls and washes the second tray, grumpily nodding at one of the drawers when Frank asks where the ‘Try me’ stickers are. He takes a ridiculous amount of time placing the sticker right, like it actually matters.

“Hey, so, it’s really cool you’re coming to the gig Saturday,” Frank says out of the blue, peering sideways at Mikey from under his fringe. “I was kinda hoping you’d come.”

Mikey wants to protest that he most certainly didn’t want to come, but his asshole of an older brother made him, but the words die on his tongue when Frank beams at him. Instead of saying something he shrugs and puts the washed tray down before Frank can take it from him, and dries his hands in his apron.

“Try not to smear the trays so much again.”

Mikey turns, intending to walk away, but a Toro-shaped obstacle keeps him from it. Ray’s looking very serious, but it’s kind of hard not to laugh in his face when he’s wearing penguin boppers.

“You’re coming Saturday?” he asks, completely failing to be subtle. Instead of boppers he might as well be wearing neon signs asking if Gerard is going to be there.

“Yep.” Mikey replies, nonchalant, and turns around again, putting a massage bar on the tray Frank just dried. Frank looks at him, eyebrow raised, and Mikey shakes his head slightly.

“Oh. Cool.”

“Yeah.” Mikey tilts his head and looks at the trays, like he’s actually considering how to arrange four massage bars.

“Yeah. You. . . got a ride?” Ray asks, and Mikey can practically hear him fiddling. Frank starts coughing to cover up a giggle.

“Possibly, not sure yet,” Mikey shrugs and turns to face Ray. “Why?”

“Oh, y’know, just. Because.”

“You offering me a ride, Toro?” Mikey raises an eyebrow and smiles innocently.

“Sure, if you. . . need one.” Ray replies and scratches his head, pulling a face as when the boppers shift. “Is it just gonna be you?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, there only space for two people in your car?” Mikey isn’t going to make it that easy on Ray.

“No, of course not,” Ray mumbles, shoulders slumping. “It’s totally fine either way.” His smile is clearly forced.

Pete chooses that moment to say “Whoooops,” which immediately gets Ray’s attention.

“Mikeyway, you’re an evil genius,” Frank whispers, bumping his elbow against Mikey’s. “So, your brother and Ray?”

“Kinda,” Mikey replies. There is no word in the English language he knows of that accurately describes this thing between Gerard and Ray. Or, well. Maybe ‘fail’ would be a good start.

“Cute,” Frank giggles and Mikey groans. It was cute seven months ago.

“We should try and set them up Saturday.”

“You think I haven’t tried that?” What kind of amateur does Frank think he is? Mikey sighs and rolls his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension. “They’re hopeless. I’ve considered locking them up in a closet, but Gerard would probably have a panic attack.” Mikey isn’t quite sure why he’s sharing all of this with Frank, because Frank’s giggling is grating on his nerves.  
“I’m a miracle worker, let me perform my relationship magic,” Frank grins and wiggles his fingers. Mikey’s not sure what jazz hands have got to do with magic. Or relationships. Well, maybe relationships. Fingers are kind of sometimes important.

“Setting yourself up for frustration. Just sayin’,” Mikey shrugs. Frank’s smile falters and he looks down.

“I think I’ve already done that.”

“What?” Mikey asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Eh, you know.” Frank starts wiping down the counter. “Sometimes you like someone and they don’t really notice that you do.”

“It’s more like Gee and Ray are blind and deaf,” Mikey points out. Frank looks up and there’s a tiny crease between his brows, making him appear incredibly frustrated.

“That’s not what I. . . oh, just forget it.” Frank drops the rag in the sink and walks away.

Mikey stares down at the counter before he turns and squints at Frank’s back, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Pete is a safety hazard to everyone,” Ray mutters, bustling past Mikey and emptying the muddy contents of a water bowl in the sink.

“What’d he do?” Mikey asks, eyes still on Frank, watching him rearrang a display of bathbombs.

“Dropped a bar of soap in the water.” Ray manages to make it sound like ‘Killed an innocent child’.

“One of the samples?”

Ray nods and fills the bowl with water again.

Mikey refrains from pointing out that it isn’t really tragic then. He’s learnt long ago that Ray’s got opinions about the treatment of samples.

“I’m sorry, Ray.” Pete looks like a scorned puppy. “I’ll get you coffee? Or the fancy tea you like?”

Ray manages to keep his glare up for a grand total of ten seconds before he gives in, shoulders slumping. “Caramel Macchiato.”

“Coming right up!” Pete salutes and turns on his heels, nearly falling over one of the tables on his way to the door.

“Oh hey Pete, can you get me a soy latte?” Frank asks, pulling a crumpled note from the pocket of his jeans and holding out for Pete, who pulls a face and takes it between thumb and pointer finger, like he’s holding something contagious.

“Sure.”

They all work in silence for the next few minutes, Ray changing the water in all the bowls, Frank pointlessly rearranging things and Mikey checking Twitter on his phone, rolling his eyes at Gerard tweeting thinly veiled metaphors about love and people being too good for him.

“Back! I brought cookies too!” Pete announces loudly as he enters the store again, a brown paper bag in one hand and a cardboard tray with four cups in the other. He puts it all down carefully on the counter, handing Ray the biggest.

“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t drop the soap again,” he says sincerely as he holds it out to Ray like the greatest gift of all. Ray takes it with an eyeroll. “We both know that’s a lie, Wentz.”

Pete just laughs and hands Mikey a cup with a smiley face on it and Frank one with an frowny face. At Frank’s look he shrugs. “Alicia did that.”

Fuck, Mikey loves Alicia. He’ll totally pick up some Chinese on the way home from the fancy place she likes.

It gets even better when Frank takes the lid of his cup and squeaks. Mikey peers over to see what is wrong, and there’s a sad smiley face drawn on the foam of Frank’s coffee with cinnamon. Alicia rocks.

“I’m. . . kind of not sure if I should be drinking this,” Frank says, eyeing the coffee and holding the cup away from himself like he fully expects a rat to jump from it. “Do you think she poisoned it?” he asks, looking at Ray and Mikey.

“Maybe,” Mikey replies with a shrug and takes a sip of his own coffee (which has a winking smiley on it). Ray glares at him and even his hair looks angry, so after he’s swallowed Mikey amends, “No. Alicia makes good coffee.”

Frank still looks skeptic but takes a sip. When it doesn’t seem to taste too bad he takes another one.

“She does make good coffee,” Pete muses, looking at his own cup. “But she’s also kind of creepy sometimes. Maybe she pulled some voodoo magic trick.”

Frank chokes and puts the cup of coffee down.

~

It’s Thursday and already Mikey is dreading Saturday. It’s like a huge red sign blocking him from enjoying a good weekend of curling up on the couch and not doing anything. Not that Mikey usually stays in on weekends, but maybe this is the weekend he would’ve wanted to stay in. But no, he has to go to Frank’s stupid gig.  
Frank, who’s hair looks particularly terrible today.

“What'd you do to it?” Mikey asks, coming up behind Frank, who flinches and rips the paper he was using to wrap a freshly cut piece of soap.

“What'd I do to what?” Frank asks, turning around and knitting his eyebrows.

“That,” Mikey clarifies, pointing at Frank’s hair with a twist of his lip.

“I. . . uh. . . what?” Frank asks, running a hand over the shaved sides of his head.

“Do you ever condition it?” Mikey asks. Frank’s fringe looks all kinds of frayed and terrible.

“I. . . no?” Frank scratches the back of his neck and looks down at the floor.

“What shampoo do you use?”

“The. . . you know,” Frank is using his hands to show the size of a shampoo bottle that seems more appropriate for milk carton, “the big bottle, from Walmart. The one that smells like apples.”

Mikey’s right eyelid twitches. “The big one, from Walmart,” he repeats. Frank might as well use dishwashing soap, which would totally serve him right. But Mikey feels bad unleashing him on customers like this, so he grabs Frank’s wrist and tugs him over to the hair care products.

“Right. You bleach your hair a lot?” Mikey asks, eyeing the tufts of Frank’s hair where the bleach hasn’t quite grown out.

“Sometimes?” Frank asks, looking like he’s facing the Spanish inquisition.

Mikey only nods and considers his choices. “Guess you’ll be too lazy to use conditioner separately?”

“I feel like I should say ‘no’, but then I wouldn’t use it and you’d know because you apparently have crazy superpowers, so yeah, totally too lazy.”

Mikey takes one of the Godiva bars and hands it to Frank, then goes for the Dirty styling cream. “Use those then.”

“Uh.”

“You know you get a 50% employee discount, right?” Mikey rolls his eyes.

“Awesome!” Frank grins. “Thanks, Mikey.”

“Whatever.” Mikey pulls his shoulders up and goes to finish the wrapping Frank ruined. It’s not like he did it because he likes Frank or anything. He did it in the name of eliminating hair care crimes.

While Frank rings up his stuff Mikey glares at the tiny soap samples. Wrapping them up is such a hassle. He’s struggling with a piece of tape that got stuck to his thumb when the door opens, letting in a cold breeze and a woman wearing a bright yellow coat.

She closes the door and looks around, then makes a beeline for Mikey.

“Hi!” Her red lips curve into a smile. “You must be Mikey.”

“…hi?” Mikey doesn’t know if he’s supposed to know her. He definitely never hooked up with her, he’d remember that, and she isn’t one of the girls from Starbucks, nor can he remember her from a gig.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Lindsey.”

And just like that, it all makes sense. This is Gerard’s Lindsey, the one Mikey only knows from phone calls making sure that Gerard is still alive.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Mikey’s posture loosens and he smiles. She’s pretty in a weird kind of way. He can see why Gerard’s into her. Which is another one of his brother’s hopeless love stories. He knows how to pick them.

Thinking about Gerard Mikey frowns. “Everything okay with Gee?”

“Yep, left him at the office with a freshly brewed pot of coffee. His hair is doing that crazy thing again, so I didn’t even try to convince him to come,” Lindsey laughs. “He was right though, your skin is amazing.”

Mikey looks down at the counter and mumbles something that vaguely sounds like ‘Thank you’. He isn’t very good at taking compliments and doesn’t like it when people look at him this closely. Besides, why is Gerard talking with other people about his skin?

“So, is Ray around? I could use some skin care tips.”

When Mikey looks up Lindsey winks at him. It seems like the afternoon is going to be interesting after all.

“He’s on his lunch break but he should be back soon, if you don’t mind waiting?”

“No, not at all,” Lindsey shakes her head and unbuttons her coat. “I’ll just look around for a bit.”

Frank is about to open his mouth, poised to go and help her, so Mikey steps on his foot and shakes his head. Frank’s mouth snaps shut and as soon as Lindsey’s turned her back to them he looks questioningly at Mikey.

“That’s. . . complicated,” Mikey mutters because how the hell is he going to explain that not only does Gerard have a crush visible from space on Ray Toro, but also on one of his co-workers?  
He doesn’t know how Gerard is going to work this out, nor is he getting involved in that mess.

“O-kay,” Frank replies, drawing the word out in a really annoying way. Mikey ignores him, pretending to wrap more samples and watching Lindsey poke around the store from behind his fringe. There are splatters of paint on her hands and she seems the right kind of weird for Gerard.

Mikey isn’t too sure if Lindsey meeting Ray is a good thing. Knowing Gerard this thing is going to end in a lot of heartache and Mikey will be there to pick up the pieces, as always. He’d just prefer not to witness the crash.

u know lindseys here, rite Mikey contemplates for a second before he hits send. It might be a train wreck, but at least it’ll be a train wreck Gerard knows about.

i know comes back barely a second later and okay, that’s not what Mikey’s been expecting. Before he can type out a reply his mobile vibrates again.

i sent her. kinda

Mikey taps his fingers against the screen of his phone, trying to understand why on earth Gerard would do that. Maybe it’s his Martyr complex coming through and he’s trying to set Ray and Lindsey up so they can be happy and he can draw zombies and vampires crying blood in the basement for weeks.

When the door opens Frank and Mikey look up, making Ray stop abruptly on his way in. “Everything okay?” He frowns and Mikey rolls his eyes. Ray’s acting like they were going to set the store on fire as soon as his back was turned.

“There’s someone here for you,” Frank says before Mikey even gets a chance to open his mouth. Frank is such a fucking gossip and Mikey allows himself ten seconds of indulging in fantasies of tying Frank up and locking him away in the staff room. He’d put an old sock in his mouth too.

Before Frank can say more stupid things Lindsey walks over to Ray and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lindsey. Gerard said you know all about skincare and I really, really need some help.”  
Ray’s frown clears into a smile. This is something he’s used to - people come in all the time to get skin care advice from him. He starts asking Lindsey his standard questions while leading her over to the skin care section. Mikey’s heard all of this a million times before. Hell, he’s gone through Ray’s catalogue of questions himself back in the day.

Lindsey has quite nice skin though and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing a gazillion layers of make-up, so Mikey feels justified in questioning her intentions.

They talk quiet enough that Mikey can’t hear them over the sounds of the stereo, but Lindsey is intently listening and nodding, touching Ray more than is strictly necessary.

“Dude, how is he so oblivious?” Frank whispers in disbelief and Mikey can’t help but agree with him. Lindsey is clearly flirting and Ray is absolutely blind to it, completely focused on explaining ingredients and their effects on skin to her.

“That’s tragic, man,” Frank sighs. Mikey shrugs because he doesn’t want to discuss this with Frank and leans against the counter, fumbling his mobile out of his apron pocket when it vibrates.

what’re they doin?

Mikey rolls his eyes and briefly thinks about ignoring Gerard’s text. Knowing his brother that’ll end in spam and Mikey hates it when his inbox is full. He might miss a message that’s actually  
important.

sexin it up in staff room

It barely takes ten seconds for Gerard to reply.

rly???????????

Sometimes it’s almost too easy. Mikey puts his mobile on the counter, deciding to answer later. Gerard set this entire thing up. Serves him well to stew a little.

“I can give you a sample of the moisturizer so you can see how you like it. Finding the right one isn’t always easy.” Ray puts a few black pots down on the counter and smiles at Lindsey.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“I think that’ll do for now,” Lindsey says, briefly glancing over at Mikey and Frank while Ray’s getting one of the small sample cups. “I’d say use this for at least a week. Usually you can only tell how your skin reacts after two weeks or more.” He finishes filling the cup with moisturizer and puts the lid on. “This should last you long enough to get a feel if your skin likes it or not. If  
it doesn’t we’ll look for something else.”

“Awesome, thanks so much.”

Mikey starts ringing up Lindsey’s purchases before Ray gets a chance to, and Frank very helpfully holds a paper bag open for him.

“Hey, so, Gerard said you’d come to the gig on Saturday as well?” Lindsey asks, leaning up against the counter.

“Yeah, totally!” Ray replies. “Frank’s band is playing,” he adds, pointing at Frank, who only smiles in return and wiggles his fingers in a wave. Mikey is willing to give him bonus points for not starting his usual rambling about the awesomeness of his band. Every once in a blue moon Frank can be considerate of others, it seems.

“Really? That’s cool.” Lindsey only glances at Frank very briefly before her eyes are back on Ray. “I’ll see you on Saturday then. Gerard and I were thinking about getting pizza first, wanna join?”

“Sure,” Ray nods and looks over at Mikey, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

Mikey wants to smash his head against the wall. Instead he steps on Frank’s toes, turning Frank’s barely contained laughter into spluttering.

“Sorry, can’t,” he shrugs and turns to Lindsey. “That’ll be $28,99.”

“Why? What’re you doing?” Ray asks and Mikey wants to step on his toes too.

“I got stuff to do,” he mutters.

“He’s helping us set up,” Frank chimes in happily and Mikey nearly drops Lindsey’s change. He’s surrounded by idiots.

“Really?” Ray lights up, undoubtedly thinking that this is Frank and Mikey becoming BFFs.

“Yeah, since he knows stuff about teching and all.” Frank nods with so much enthusiasm that Mikey wants to punch him.

“Awesome.” Ray claps Mikey’s shoulder, but Mikey folds a little more into himself and hands Lindsey her change. She smiles and winks at him, mouthing ‘Thanks’. Mikey is practically a saint.

The patron saint of getting his brother laid, or something that sounds less creepy.

“Thanks, guys,” Lindsey says out loud as she takes her bag. “I’ll see you Saturday then, Gerard’ll call you once we know where we’re going and stuff.”

Ray nods and scratches his shoulder. “Cool.”

“Cool,” Lindsey repeats and her smile is a little on the smug side. “I’m looking forward to it. And thanks again for,” she lifts her bag a little, “all your help.”

“No worries, anytime.” Ray’s voice rises even more in pitch when Lindsey hugs him. He pats her back kind of awkwardly and when retelling the story later Mikey’ll swear that Ray’s hair puffed up even more, defying the laws of gravity.

“Bye.” Lindsey waves slightly again before she leaves. Ray remains rooted to the spot, starring at the door with his mouth slightly agape.  
Mikey sighs and grabs his mobile and the hoodie he’s stashed under the counter.

“Coffee break,” he mutters on his way out, not entirely sure if his headache is from a low caffeine level or a side-effect of working with oblivious Ray and impossible Frank.

~

Eventually Saturday rolls around with a staggering amount of texts from Gerard freaking out about what to wear, what to do with his hair, how he’s not gonna go because it’ll be a ‘Catastrophe, Mikey!’, and if he should shave his armpits.

The texts leave Mikey somewhere between amused and exasperated, but at least Gerard is aware of this being the weirdest date ever, as opposed to Ray who’s still thinking he’s going out for pizza with friends. Mikey spends most of his morning alternating between answering Gerard and thwarting Ray’s attempts to invite other people to come along for pre-gig pizza.

By the end of his shift Mikey is ready to go home and take a nap. While he’s at it he could pretend to not wake up in time for Frank’s gig. Of course he would be terribly sad to have missed something so wonderful, but shit happens. It would be very unfortunate and, honestly? Amazing. Couch, junk food and watching stupid TV shows with Alicia sounds so much more appealing than hanging around in a club where he’ll be forced to watch Frank live his dream.

“I’ll just close up the till then we’re good to go,” Ray says while locking the front door.

“I. . . what?” Mikey asks, looking up from where he’s struggling to untie his apron. Apparently Pete is the master of knots after all. Mikey should’ve known better than to challenge him.

“You’re helping Frank set up, right? I’ll drop you off at the club, it’s on the way.”

Right. Mikey lied in order to help along Ray’s and Gerard’s eternal happiness. In exchange he gets punished instead of rewarded for his selfless actions.

“Don’t worry, I can take the bus,” Mikey mumbles and continues the battle against his knotted apron strings. If he doesn’t get the knot to loosen within the next ten seconds he’s going to cut the stupid thing open.

“Why would you take the bus?” Ray asks, swatting Mikey’s hands away and attempting to untie Pete’s knot of doom.

“Because I like taking the bus,” Mikey replies, studying a stack of soap and counting the bars.

“You hate taking the bus,” Ray huffs, tugging on the strings of Mikey’s apron with more force than necessary.

“I. . . hate taking the bus,” Mikey admits with a sigh. He’s ranted about the evils of public transport and talked Ray into giving him a ride often enough that he can’t make up a believable lie for his sudden love for buses.

“I know. Stop being weird.” Ray finally manages to open up the knot and pulls Mikey’s apron over his head.

“Put everything in the fridge while I close up the till?”

“Sure,” Mikey shrugs. He hates closing up the till because he gets distracted too easily when he counts the money and then he has to start over again.

Mikey takes more time than strictly necessary when closing the sample pots and putting everything in the fridge, dragging his feet. No matter how slow he moves, eventually everything is done and Mikey is following Ray out to his car, putting sunglasses on despite the clouded sky.

~

Mikey’s plan of waiting until Ray pulls away and then leaving is thwarted by Frank standing outside the club, smoking and waving enthusiastically as soon as Mikey steps out of the car. Mikey’s stomach does some weird, twisty thing and Mikey wrinkles his nose. He probably needs more coffee.

“Hey. You’re here,” Frank grins and drops his cigarette to the ground after taking one last drag.

Mikey doesn’t dignify the statement with a response because yes, obviously he’s here.

“Cool, c’mon. I’ll introduce you.”

“Awesome,” Mikey mutters and shuffles after Frank, hands in the pockets of his hoodie and taking no notice of how low Frank’s jeans hang on his hips.

Inside the club the lights are on, which is something that’ll always feel wrong to Mikey. Clubs are not supposed to be seen in a well-lit state; it’s like looking behind the scenes at a play - it destroys the illusion.

Frank introduces Mikey to the guys already setting up, some of them apparently in the band with him and others just friends helping out. They’re all more focused on getting ready than on getting to know Mikey, which is good. The last thing Mikey wants right now is be sociable. Not when every-fucking-thing here reminds him of what being in a band felt like.

“I’ll get you a drink, what do you want?” Frank asks.

“I’m good.” Mikey mutters, taping a cable down.

“C’mon, anything. Coke? Beer? Whatever you want.” Frank continues to hover on the edge of Mikey’s vision, which is fucking annoying. Mikey can’t work like this.

“I’m good,” he bites out, briefly glaring up at Frank, who visibly deflates.

“Okay. Sorry. I didn’t . . sorry,” Frank raises his hands in a sheepish gesture. “Let me know if you’re thirsty after all, kay?”

Mikey does a nod-shrug combination and focuses on work, ignoring every attempt Frank makes at starting a conversation.

“Hey.”

Looking up Mikey blows a few strands of hair away from his forehead before giving Alicia a tiny smile.

“Hey yourself.”

“Brought you something,” Alicia holds out a bottle of beer. It’s cool against Mikey’s palm. Taking a drink he sighs happily. Maybe he was a little thirsty.

“So you’ll take drinks from a pretty girl but not from me?” Frank asks, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. He looks Alicia over from head to toe and scowls. Before Mikey can say anything Alicia hold out her hand with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Alicia.”

“Frank.” Frank’s smile seems forced as he shakes Alicia’s hand for the briefest amount possible.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”

Mikey isn’t sure how to react to Frank’s statement, which sounded more like an accusation. Thankfully Alicia saves him the trouble of forming a coherent response other than ‘what?’ and ‘ha?’

“I’m Mikey’s roommate,” Alicia manages to make it sound nonchalant, like it’s part of her introduction.

“Oh. Yeah, Mikey mentioned you,” Frank smiles his sheepish smile and Mikey takes a swig from his beer. Damn fucking Frank Iero who looks stupid, not adorable.

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Alicia shrugs. “You guys about done?”

“Looks like we’re good,” Frank nods. He sounds 200% friendlier than two minutes ago.

“Okay cool, I gotta borrow Mikey then. There are new Pete and Patrick developments we gotta discuss.” Alicia holds out her hand and Mikey gratefully jumps down from the stage and takes it.

“See you later, Frank.”

Frank waves awkwardly and Mikey squeezes Alicia’s hand as they make their way over to the bar.

“You’re awesome.”

“I know,” Alicia shrugs. “Though I still don’t really see what’s so bad about him. You really do hold grudges, Mikeyway.”

“Maybe,” Mikey mumbles and takes another sip of beer before sitting down on one of the bar stools. Leaning back Mikey ignores the edge of the counter digging into his back as he watches Frank tune his guitar, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“So what’s new with Pete and Patrick?” He asks, not even having to look sideways to know that Alicia is rolling her eyes.

“Eh, same old really. Though I think Patrick is close to giving in.”

“Really?” Mikey asks, watching as Frank looks up and laughs at something the bassist says.

“Yup. Also I found out that being oblivious is in the Way DNA,” Alicia replies and that gets Mikey’s attention. Looking over at her he frowns, trying to get the connection.

“What?” It feels like he’s just proven a point.

“Nothing,” Alicia shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. Mikey can still see the corners of her mouth twitching.

~

An hour later the band have gone backstage and the club is getting packed. Mikey is nursing his second bottle of beer and watching the people around them with Alicia while they wait for the rest to arrive.

“What the fuck is she wearing? Did she make that shirt out of leftover scrapes from other tshirts?” Alicia snorts, watching a girl walk by in a tshirt that’s more tiny scrap of fabric than clothing.

“Crafty,” Mikey laughs. “Also that dude over there is totally into you.”

“Who? The one with the braids?” Alicia asks, kicking Mikey’s shin lightly.

“Yup,” Mikey replies, trying to keep a straight face.

“Not my type.”

“But think of all the things you could do with his hair,” Mikey points out, managing to keep his voice even.

“You’d think about that because you have a hair-fetish.”

“Mikey has what kind of fetish?” Gerard asks as he almost falls into Alicia. Mikey didn’t see him, but the bar is really crowded by now.

“Hair fetish,” Alicia replies nonchalantly and hands Gerard her beer. Instead of taking a drink Gerard presses the bottle against his right cheek.

“Oh that’s awesome,” he sighs happily. “It’s so damn hot in here.”

Mikey raises an eyebrow. “You not drinking tonight?”

Gerard shakes his head and there is something in his smile that tells Mikey that there’s more to this than Gerard is letting on. He doesn’t have to ask what’s up though because Lindsey and Ray appear behind Gerard, Lindsey holding Ray’s hand as they push through the crowd.

“Hi guys,” Lindsey smiles, fingers of her free hand brushing against Gerard’s. Mikey raises an eyebrow and Gerard beams.

“Hi,” Ray waves awkwardly and accidentally elbows a guy in the back. He looks flustered and Mikey is sure that the color on his cheeks has got nothing to do with the temperature inside the club.

“Hey,” Mikey replies, trying not to look smug.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll get something to drink. What do you guys want?” Ray asks Lindsey and Gerard. If possible the color on his cheeks intensifies.

“Diet Coke,” Gerard replies and hands the beer back to Alicia.

“Beer, please.” Lindsey lets go off Ray’s hand and looks around. “Wow, that’s quite a lot of people. Frank’s band seems to be popular.”

“I guess,” Mikey huffs and reaches out to pull Gerard closer to him. Gerard almost trips over his own feet but happily leans against Mikey.

“Everything good?” Mikey asks, low enough that Alicia and Lindsey won’t hear them.

“Yes. Yes, everything is good, Mikes. Really good. Tell you tomorrow?” Gerard asks, pulling Mikey into a hug.

“Sure.” Having breakfast (considering the time, some people might call it dinner) together after a night out is a longstanding tradition that’s been in place for as long as Mikey can remember. It started back at home, when he and Gerard would go out together and sneak back into the house in the morning, grabbing things from the kitchen and taking them to the basement, and has been in place ever since then.

“Cool.” Gerard let’s go and takes a step back, grinning when he bumps into Lindsey. “There’s a free chair over there, should I bring it over?”

“I’m good.” Lindsey leans into Gerard and even if Mikey didn’t like her already, he would now after seeing the smile she brings to Gerard’s face.

Alicia kicks Mikey’s shin again and smiles, inclining her head towards Gerard and Lindsey and doing a thumbs up.

Ray comes back with two bottles of beer and a coke just as the band walks on stage. The crowd surges forward and it’s strange to not be part of that and stay seated instead. Mikey swings his legs a little before trying to stay still again. Most likely Frank’s band’ll suck and he’ll be glad that he’s seated. There is nothing worse than standing through the set of a crap band.

~

Frank’s band is awesome. Not that Mikey would ever, ever admit to it, but he likes their music. And the way Frank looks up on stage, throwing himself around with reckless abandon. Fuck, Frank makes it damn difficult to dislike him sometimes.

“That was amazing!” Ray yells over the noise of the crowd once the set is over. Mikey nods before he manages to catch himself. With a scowl he turns his nod into a shrug. “It was all right.”  
“Don’t lie, you were nodding along,” Alicia points out.

“I didn’t,” Mikey replies, voice flat.

“Whatever let’s you sleep at night,” Alicia shrugs before turning around and ordering two more beers.

Three beers later Mikey excuses himself from listening to Alicia and Lindsey talking about long-lasting lipstick and pushes his way through the crowd in search of the bathroom.  
On his way back Mikey is barely five steps away from the bathroom when someone steps into his path.

“Mikey, hey. I’ve been looking for you.” It’s Frank. Of fucking course it is. He’s wearing a different shirt than before and his eyes are glassy. Mikey swallows against the weird feeling in his throat. He needs another drink.

“What did you think? Did you like it?” Frank steps into Mikey’s space without even noticing. This close Mikey can tell that he smells faintly of soap.

“It was all right,” Mikey replies slowly, watching Frank blink sluggishly. It takes a few seconds until he reacts to Mikey’s words, pursing his lips and glaring.

“All right? Wow, nice.”

Mikey shrugs and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“You know, I’m really trying here,” Frank hisses, heat in his eyes that makes something in Mikey’s stomach twist. “I really fucking am, but you’re an absolute douchebag for no reason. You can’t even be civil. You’re just a fucking asshole without reason!” Frank jabs his finger against Mikey’s chest, managing to tip the cup he’s holding in the other hand and spill beer down Mikey’s shirt.

“What the fuck is your fucking problem?” Frank asks, now standing so close their chests are touching.

“You,” Mikey replies, starting to feel angry himself. “You are my fucking problem.”

“What did I do?!” Frank yells, managing to spill the rest of his beer.

Mikey’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds as his brain refuses to come up with a reason. He’s been so invested in disliking Frank that apparently he forgot all the things that made him dislike Frank in the first place. His tshirt is wet and clinging to his chest though, so Mikey goes with the most obvious of reasons.

“You spilled your beer all over me.”

Frank’s mouth snaps shut and he looks up at Mikey with wide eyes for a few seconds. “You. . . because I spilt my beer?”

“Yeah,” Mikey nods, grateful for something to latch onto.

“But I spilled beer on you now. That doesn’t count for you being a douche earlier.”

Mikey shrugs. He doesn’t want to have this discussion, but when he tries to shoulder past Frank he’s pushed back against the wall.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Frank asks, fingers curled into the front of Mikey’s shirt.

“What?” Everybody is talking in fucking riddles today and it’s annoying. All Mikey wants to do is go home and watch American Gypsies.

Frank rolls his eyes, pushes up on his toes and all of a sudden he’s kissing Mikey. Mikey’s first instinct is to push Frank away, but his brain helpfully supplies that this is kind of nice and he’s a little bit drunk and why the hell not?

Before he knows it Mikey’s kissing back, his mind drawing a complete blank. Apparently there is no need to think when a hot guy is sucking on your bottom lip.

Frank presses closer and never eases up, keeps kissing Mikey like he’s only got five minutes left on earth. It’s not delicate or careful; it’s perfect, a little like a rollercoaster ride where you don’t know what to expect. Mikey’s head spins when he closes his eyes, but not in an unpleasant way. Frank’s body pressed against his, fingers curled into his shirt and tugging, are enough to anchor Mikey, his own hands settling on Frank’s hips. Frank makes a soft noise that makes something in Mikey’s stomach flutter.

“Dude!”

Mikey barely notices the voice, but Frank tenses slightly and grumbles against Mikey’s lips.

“Frankie, c’mon. You can suck face later, gotta pack up the van now.”

Frank pulls back with a wet noise and when Mikey opens his eyes he draws in a sharp breath. Frank’s eyes are wide and glassy, his lips red and wet. Mikey wants to kiss him again, which is fucking confusing.

“I gotta. . ,” Frank licks his lips before jerking his head back in the general direction the voice came from.

“Yeah,” Mikey replies stupidly, fingertips digging into Frank’s sides. “Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll. . . see you then, yeah?” Frank asks and Mikey swallows hard. Instead of an answer he shrugs. It seems to be enough for Frank because he leans up for a brief kiss.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll just. . ,” he reluctantly let’s go and takes a step back. “I’ll see you in a few.”

“Frank get a move on, fuck’s sake!”

Frank waves at Mikey before he turns around and jogs up to his bandmate, saving Mikey from having to answer. Leaning back against the wall Mikey exhales shakily and runs a hand through  
his hair, tugging at strands stuck together with hairspray. Fuck. What is he doing? This is fucking stupid and wrong and confusing and. . . fuck.

Pushing away from the wall Mikey gets his mobile out of his pocket and sends a quick text to Alicia and Gerard, saying he isn’t feeling too well and going home, before he pushes his way through the crowd and leaves, stubbornly refusing to admit that it feels like he’s running away.

~

On Monday morning Mikey considers calling in sick to work. He spent all of Sunday curled up on the couch, ignoring his phone, as well as, Alicia’s attempts to get him to talk and pitied himself.

What the fuck had he been thinking, making out with fucking Frank Iero of all people? Worse, making out with Frank Iero and enjoying it. Because that’s something Mikey can’t deny. He enjoyed it. He liked the way Frank wasn’t careful, kept clinging to Mikey like he was a lifeline, and kissed like he had something to prove.

Frank tried to call him Sunday and sent several texts, probably trying to talk with Mikey about where they stand or some bullshit. Mikey deleted everything without reading.  
The only thing that eventually makes Mikey go into work is knowing that if he calls in sick Ray is going to be worried and come over and it will all be awkward and terrible and in the end Mikey will have to face Frank tomorrow anyway. Better get it over with.

Armed with a grande cappuccino made by Patrick (who actually makes better cappuccino than Alicia, not that Mikey would ever tell her that) Mikey enters the store, tense despite his best efforts to relax.

“Mikey, hi!” Ray is beaming and Mikey can see a hickey just above the collar of his shirt. Mikey clutches his coffee to his chest and exhales slowly. If he doesn’t allow his mind to provide where exactly Ray got that hickey he won’t have to bleach his brain and can live in blissful ignorance forever.

“Morning,” he mutters and walks past Ray, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor.

“How are you? How was your weekend?” It looks like it takes all of Ray’s self-control not to skip. Mikey shrugs and digs his mobile out of his pocket when it vibrates. It’s a text from Gerard.

MIKEY OMG

Mikey clicks the message away. He’s happy for them, really he is, but he doesn’t need to hear about his brother’s sex life this early in the morning. Especially not when it’s connected to the guy he works with.

He takes one step into the staff room before turning around on his heels and walking right back out. Frank is in there. Awesome.

Mikey marches over to the counter and puts his coffee down with a heavy sigh.

“Mikey, man, you all right?” Ray asks and he sounds so genuinely worried that Mikey immediately feels bad for behaving like an ass.

“Yeah. Just. . . I’m just tired.” He knuckles at his eyes to make a point. Mikey is tired and grumpy in the mornings a lot, so Ray nods sympathetically and claps his back.

“I can start setting up with Frank and you finish your coffee, yeah?”

Ray Toro is such a fucking saint. Sometimes it gives Mikey the strange urge to buy him a gift basket.

“Morning!” Frank sounds way too fucking alert for this time on a Monday morning. Mikey hunches over a little more and sips his coffee, mumbling a vague meeting. Maybe if he ignores Frank he’ll go away.

“Hi Mikey.”

Right, because ignoring Frank worked so well in the past. Mikey looks up briefly, and absolutely doesn’t notice that Frank’s hair looks like he rolled out of bed five minutes ago. He also doesn’t think about the fact that he could’ve been in Frank’s bed Saturday night. Nope, Mikey is totally not thinking about such things.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“I tried calling you.” It’s obvious that Frank is trying to sound casual, but he doesn’t quite manage to hide the annoyance in his voice. “After you, you know, disappeared.”

“Oh yeah?” Mikey shrugs. “Left my phone somewhere in my room.”

“Please,” Frank huffs, “You’re surgically attached to that thing.”

Mikey wrinkles his nose and decides not to dignify that with a response. Instead he pushes away from the counter and walks to the staff room to put on his apron.

“Mikey, c’mon. What the fuck?” Frank is trailing him like the world’s most annoying puppy.

“What?” Mikey bites out, close to losing his patience. He can’t deal with this.

“Why’re you acting like that? I thought, you know, after Saturday and all,” Frank trails off and when Mikey looks at him he’s got his hands stuffed in his pockets and is rocking on the balls of his feet, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Somehow it makes some of Mikey’s anger disappear.

“We were drunk,” Mikey points out and gets his apron from his locker.

“That only helped courage wise,” Frank mutters. “C’mon. Can we go to dinner tonight and talk about this?”

“You asking me out on a date?” Mikey raises an eyebrow and tries not to start laughing because this? Is crazy.

“Maybe I am.” Frank raises his chin defensively. “C’mon, go out with me Mikeyway.”

“No.” Mikey closes his locker with a little more force than necessary and shoulders past Frank.

“Why not?” Frank asks, following Mikey.

“Why yes?” Mikey huffs and makes a beeline for a customer who’s just entered the store.

“Hi, I’m Mikey. How can I help you?” Mikey asks in complete monotone. Even serving annoying customers is better than being pestered by Frank. Especially since Mikey is running out of elusive replies that’ll save him from having to confront the mess of conflicting emotions he’s got about Frank. Fuck feelings anyway, who needs them when there is coffee?

Two undecided customers, who were determined to test Mikey’s patience, later the Frank problem has still not solved itself. In fact, the Frank problem is still there, right in front of Mikey.

“Mikeyway,” Frank bats his eyelashes.

“No.” Mikey tries to sidestep Frank, but encounters a Ray-shaped obstacle.

“Mikey, c’mon.” Ray is looking all earnest and Mikey wants to scream. Why are they teaming up on him. Looking between Frank and Ray it becomes clear that they are going to continue to annoy him all day, so with a sigh Mikey decides on the path of least resistance.

“Fine,” he huffs and is totally and completely not affected by Frank’s brilliant smile.

“Awesome! Where do you wanna go?” Frank asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“You’re the one asking me out, you pick somewhere,” Mikey replies. He’s agreed to this and that’s where his involvement stops.

“Okay, fine. How about. . . how about the diner across from the Iron Monkey?”

“Sure,” Mikey shrugs. As far as he’s concerned Frank could take him to McDonald’s and he wouldn’t care.

“Cool. Meet there at eight?”

“Okay,” Mikey agrees. “Can I go back to work now?”

Frank just grins and Ray claps Mikey on the back. Mikey huffs and goes to hide in the staff room, already texting Pete on the way there.

help

~

Frank is already waiting outside the diner when Mikey arrives, finishing his cigarette and grinning that stupid grin of his. The tip of his nose is red from the cold.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” Frank says and pulls Mikey into a hug. Mikey tenses and awkwardly waits until Frank let’s go.

“Should we go in? It’s fucking freezing.”

Before Mikey even has a chance to reply Frank’s taken a hold of his hand and is opening the door. Inside Mikey is welcomed by warmth and the smell of grease. His stomach turns. He’s not hungry anymore.

Frank leads them to a booth in a corner and Mikey breathes a sigh of relief when Frank finally let’s go of his hand as they sit down.

The momentarily awkward silence between them is broken by the waitress coming over to take their drink orders.

“I’ll have Coke, please,” Frank smiles at her before gestures at Mikey, “And coffee for him.”

Mikey clenches his teeth before he forces himself to relax. “I can order for myself,” he says once the waitress has left, glaring at Frank.

“Wha-. . . oh shit, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Frank scratches the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. “Did you want something else?”

“I might’ve,” Mikey mumbles and flicks a few grains of salt away from the table.

“What do you wanna eat? My treat.” Frank pushes a sticky menu at Mikey.

“I’m not really hungry.” Looking at the menu nothing really sounds appealing.

“What? C’mon Mikey,” Frank groans. “What kinda date is this if you don’t even wanna eat something?”

“Is eating something an essential part of a date?” Mikey asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I. . . guess?” Frank frowns. “I mean, either you go out for a meal or you to go, like, the movies and then you get stuff to eat there. So food is always included.”

“What if you go to a club? There’s only drinks there, no food. Or if you go out for coffee?” Mikey asks. Why is he even having this discussion?

“Yeah but if you go out for coffee you usually also have cake or brownies or muffins or cupcakes or something,” Frank points out. “See, there is always food involved, Mikeyway. C’mon, order something. There’s always room for fries.”

Mikey wrinkles his nose but Frank is right. You can’t go wrong with fries.

“Fine,” he huffs and studies the menu again.

“Awesome.”

They both study the menus in silence until the waitress comes back with their drinks and takes their food orders.

With nothing more to pass as reason for silence the situation turns slightly awkward again.

“So, Saturday,” Frank starts, fidgeting in his seat. “Saturday was cool.”

“I guess,” Mikey shrugs, pouring a pack of sugar into his coffee.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Frank sounds angry again and it makes Mikey look up.

“What?” He didn’t say anything, why would Frank suddenly be pissed at him?

“What is wrong with you? You’re being a complete asshole again and I don’t get it. I really, really don’t. I’ve been trying okay, but apparently you’re dead-set on disliking me because I was a  
jerk in high school. Newsflash, Mikey; everyone is an idiot in high school.” Frank is getting worked up and nearly knocks his glass of Coke over as he gesticulates wildly.

Mikey wants to point out that it wasn’t too long ago that Frank made fun of Gerard, but the words die in his throat when Frank continues.

“Seriously, I don’t even know why I like you. But I do and that’s kinda shit because obviously you don’t want anything to do with me.” Frank deflates while talking, looking like a kicked puppy and it makes Mikey feel really, really bad.

“I’m sorry for being pushy. I get like that when I’m nervous,” Frank shrugs. “But if I’m that despicable just tell me, okay? I’ll back off and I won’t bother you again. Tell me to fuck off and I’ll walk away.”

This is what Mikey’s wanted all along. Now he only has to tell Frank to get lost and he’ll never be bothered again. But when Mikey opens his mouth the words don’t come. He closes his mouth again and swallows hard.

Because the thing is, if Mikey’s honest, he doesn’t want Frank to go away.

“I don’t want you to not annoy me,” is what comes out eventually. Frank stares at Mikey and blinks.

“I. . . what?”

“I don’t want you to not annoy me,” Mikey repeats, trying to make sense of everything he’s feeling. “You’re a fucking asshole. And you’re really annoying. But I don’t want you to not annoy me.”

“Is that your way of saying that I should stay?” Frank asks, looking stupidly hopeful. Mikey kicks him under the table.

“I guess.”

“You guess,” Frank repeats, a smile starting to bloom on his face. “No, I think you know, Mikeyway. You want me to stay around because you like me.”

“No I don’t,” Mikey mumbles, poking at the empty packet of sugar on the table.

“Yes you do. Admit it, you like me,” Frank kicks Mikey back under the table and Mikey can feel the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Maybe,” he replies, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Totally,” Frank corrects. “Just admit it. You do. You totally and absolutely do.”

Pushing up from his seat Frank leans over the table, cradles Mikey’s face in his hands and kisses him noisily.

“Stubborn idiot,” Frank mumbles against Mikey’s lips. His palms are a little sweaty against Mikey’s cheeks.

“You like it,” Mikey says, teeth grazing Frank’s lower lip.

Frank leans in for another kiss.

~

Epilogue  
 _2 Months later_

“All I’m saying is that you should think about it.”

Mikey rolls his eyes and ignores Frank, setting up the shower gels at the sampling station.

“It’d look really cute,” Frank tries again, pulling on the string of Mikey’s apron.

“No,” Mikey replies and bats Frank’s hand away. “Peppers is the bride. Houdini is the groom.”

“Uh. . . guys?” Ray looks between them. “What exactly are you planning?”

“We bought outfits for the dogs. For Benji’s and Nicole’s wedding,” Frank explains, like it’s the most normal thing to do. “Mikey refuses to accept that Houdini looks better in the dress.”

“Which is not true,” Mikey says, pushing Frank away when he pokes his side. “Peppers feels like a princess in the dress.” And Mikey is not going to deny her that. Even if Houdini does look cuter in the dress.

“Right,” Ray mumbles and turns away to continue dusting off the shelves. “You guys could just buy a second dress?”

Mikey and Frank blink at each other for a few seconds before Mikey nods.

“That could work. See, Mikeyway, problem solved!” Frank grins.

“I never had a problem,” Mikey points out. He was right from the beginning.

“Sure,” Frank rolls his eyes and grabs the front of Mikey’s apron, pulling him close enough to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You okay showing up to the wedding with a weirdo boyfriend and two dogs in dresses then?” Frank asks, and by now Mikey knows him well enough to catch the flash of insecurity in the way Frank is not looking at him directly.

“You’re an idiot,” Mikey mumbles, poking Frank’s stomach, which gets him a tiny smile.

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“Please don’t,” Mikey huffs and pokes Frank’s stomach again. Before he can say anything else the door to the store flies open and Pete waltzes in.

“My life is a series of unfortunate events,” Pete announces to the store in general before looking at Frank and Mikey. “Go away,” he grumbles as he pushes Frank away and latches onto Mikey. Raising an eyebrow at Frank over Pete’s shoulder and shrugging helplessly Mikey pats Pete’s back.

“Patrick?”

“Hates me,” Pete replies and lets go off Mikey with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Mikey says.

“Hey Pete, we got in a range of make up products, have you seen those yet?” Frank asks in an attempt to distract Pete. Mikey’s got to give him points for that, Pete is easily distracted by things he can mess around with.

“They even come with a game to determine the best colors for you,” Frank adds, dragging Pete over to the make up display.

Certain that Pete is being kept busy and entertained Mikey goes to grab a bottle of Diet Coke from the fridge in the backroom. When he gets back to the main room five minutes later Pete is wearing green eyeshadow and Lindsey is there, putting a paper tray holding four Starbucks cups down on the counter and handing Ray a sandwich.

“Hi Lindsey,” Mikey says, keeping an eye on Frank and Pete to make sure that they don’t paint Pete’s face green with the eyeshadows.

“Mikey, hi,” Lindsey replies with a smile. “I brought you guys coffee.”

“But only Ray gets lunch,” Frank points out.

“You got a boyfriend who can get you lunch,” Lindsey replies before turning back to Ray. “Also, Gerard says hi.” When she leans in for a kiss (and judging by the traces of red lipstick on Ray’s lips it’s not the first of the day) Pete groans.

“Why is everyone in a relationship? Some with several people even, when I can’t even get one Patrick?”

“Honestly? You should just tell him you’re being super obnoxious because you like him. By the time he finds out that you are obnoxious all the time he’ll hopefully have fallen in love with you,” Frank says, patting Pete on the back.

“I don’t know,” Pete purses his lips. “You think that’ll work?”

Frank looks over at Mikey and smiles the small smile Mikey’s come to think of as his.

“Worked for me.”

Mikey smiles his special, tiny Frank-smile and goes to change the water in the sampling bowls.


End file.
